Strange Games
by Rahar Moonfire
Summary: What if Magnus played a more intrinsic role in Clary's life after taking her memories and Clary went with him instead of Jace? Clary's mundane life ends & now she must hide, save her mother, find a Cup, and deal with her new Shadowhunter status. Thankfully, Uncle Magnus is there to help. Now if only Jace, Alec, and Izzy could find the new Shadowhunter who ruined their mission.
1. Why?

**A/N:** No, Magnus is not related to Clary. The term "uncle" is used as a term of endearment like "godfather." Magnus turned that down cause it sounded weird. Yes, Malec will be in here. This is a what if scenario based mostly on the Shadowhunters TV show. Basically, what if Magnus played a more intrinsic role in Clary's life after taking her memories and Clary went with him instead of Jace, Alec, and Isabelle?

 **Chapter summary:** In which Clary sees something she shouldn't, Jocelyn sends her away, and Magnus is a special uncle.

* * *

 **1: Why?**

The music was heavy and thrummed through the body like pulsing blood in the dancers' veins. Lights flashed, flickered, and oscillated between bright and dim in the huge room. Fog covered the floor, disturbed by the movement of the many bodies occupying the space. A huge screen adorning the wall showed an impressive array of colors and designs changing with the rhythm.

To a first-timer, the sensory input could be overwhelming and sometimes disorienting. But not to her. She was too focused on the carnage scattered around her. Distantly she wondered if Simon was right and someone had indeed put something in her drink when she hadn't been looking, but another part of her was very aware that this wasn't a hallucination. This was reality. And it terrified her.

The strange boy she followed into this place was dancing to a deadly rhythm matched by another young man his direct opposite in appearance who matched him move for move. Where the first boy had blond hair cut and styled in such a way that many girls and guys would find attractive, the other boy had dark messy hair more like the woman joining their terrible dance.

The woman had long brown-black hair that gleamed perfectly as her lithe body moved and pulsed. Her outfit suited the rave atmosphere and had she taken this dance to the open floor, there was no doubt she could easily have the choice of anyone else out there. But what she chose to do with her moves heralded destruction.

It lasted no longer than half a minute, but in that time the witness watched seven people murdered in cold blood. Her eyes widened when she frantically glanced at the floor for the inevitable spray of blood and dismembered body parts and felt her stomach sink when she found none. The floor was dirty but no more than it had been before the massacre began. The warm metal in her grasp suddenly felt slippery in her palms.

She shuddered and stumbled back, raising the metal thing in her hands instinctually when something rushed her. The impact forced the metal into her gut knocking what little breath she still had out of her lungs forcing her to lurch forward. Her wide eyes caught the instant wicked inhuman eyes changed from hatred to surprise before vanishing in a burst of fire and ash.

Gasping hungrily, she slumped and noticed the softly glowing blade blossoming from the metal rod she still held clasped firmly, desperately, in her hands in confusion. Her mind stuttered as it tried to come to terms with what just happened. That thing... That thing, which looked so very human -but those jaws were most definitely not human- was gone. Dead, she realized. That thing was dead. She had killed it. She had _killed_ it. _She_ had killed it.

She was murderer.

That clear though jolted through her mind followed by a clatter as the metal, newly freed from her grasp, struck the ground, the glowing blade vanishing. A soft sob escaped her and she distantly realized she was hyperventilating. She hadn't noticed the vibrant sensations in the rave before, but now they hammered and clamored and threatened to engulf her.

She had to get out.

Now.

She couldn't remember the run out of the building, just snatches of color, noise, heat, and the desperate need to _escape!_

She didn't notice clutching her messenger bag still slung over her shoulder as she ran. She didn't notice Simon or Maureen calling her from the bar. She only thought of escape. Safe. She needed to get somewhere safe. Home. Mom. Home was safe. Mom was safe.

A dull yellow streaked by blaring its horn and she stopped abruptly at the edge of a huge intersection still bustling with traffic even at this late hour. She blinked and a taxi pulled up. She didn't bother to count her blessings, she just climbed in and her mind absolutely blanked.

"Honey? Honey what's wrong?"

Mom.

"Mom?" she breathed, blinking blindly.

"Honey, what happened? Are you okay? Clary talk to me," her mom said sternly, concern lacing every word.

Clary gulped. "I was at this party and these guys showed up and there were people but they weren't people and they turned to ashes and-"

"Ashes?" her mother murmured, her brow furrowed as she tried to follow her daughters word vomit.

"-these people had glowing swords and they were dancing and killing and oh god mom what's happening?!"

"Clary, Clary stop!" Her mom grabbed her shoulders and shook her forcing her to stop talking and gasp for air that she hadn't realized she needed. "These people with glowing swords, did they see you?"

Clary blinked at her mom in confusion. "What? Did they- Y-yes, the one guy did. Um," she swallowed, her parched throat aching, "why? Mom what's going on? Who were those people?"

"It's going to be okay," her mom said. "Dot!" she called, straightening and dragging Clary with her to the island in the center of their loft kitchen.

Clary looked over her shoulder to see Dorothea appear from dark hallway towards the bedrooms, a worried look on her face. Her face paled when she saw Clary. "Clary are you alright?" she asked.

"Not now, Dot," Clary's mom said firmly, jerking Dot's attention to her. "They found us."

All the color in Dot's dark face drained and she leapt into motion. "How?" she demanded.

"Who?" Clary asked, her attention bouncing between Dot and her mother. "Who're 'they'?"

"Clary, listen to me," her mom said, turning her daughter so their eyes met. "No matter what happens now, I need you to do exactly as I say, do you understand?"

Clary nodded. "Mom, what is going on?" she asked, panic clawing its way into her heart.

"Those people you saw are dangerous," her mom said. "I'm going to send you to Luke, okay? I need you to go directly to Luke, don't talk to anyone else."

"Jocelyn," Dot interrupted, handing Clary's mom a vial of something that gleamed a radioactive green. "Only if you need it," she warned, and then she whirled away.

Clary stared at the green liquid in disgust. "What is that?" she asked. None of this was making any sense.

"Nevermind that, Clary listen," Jocelyn said firmly, yanking Clary's attention back to her. "Tell Luke what you saw. If you can't find him, go to Uncle Magnus. Don't tell anyone else. Do you understand me?"

"I'll call Magnus," Dot called from somewhere behind Clary accompanied by something clattering to the floor.

"Uncle Magnus?" Clary mumbled. "What does Uncle Magnus have to do with this? Dot?"

"Clary!" Clary looked back up at her mom instantly. Jocelyn heaved a sigh and dug something out of her pocket. "Wear this," she commanded, spinning Clary around and tying whatever it was around Clary's neck, "and think of me when you do."

"Mom, now is not the time for birthday presents-"

"Dot!" Jocelyn called.

"I can't get a hold of Magnus," Dot said, holding her phone in frustration. She handed Jocelyn a small wrapped package.

"Don't worry, I'll tell him later. Open a portal to Luke," Jocelyn ordered, taking the package from her friend and thrusting into Clary's bag.

"Portal? Wha-?" Clary's voice died in her throat when a veil of glittering purple energy rippled into existence between two folding screen.

"Tell Luke what you saw and wait for me," Jocelyn said, pushing her daughter towards to the purple veil.

"No! No, Mom!" Clary cried, spinning and snagging her mother's sleeve halting her forward motion. "Mom, don't leave me. Please, please, don't leave me!"

Jocelyn's eyes glistened. "I'll be right behind you, Clary. Keep your stele with you and tell Luke."

Then Clary ceased to exist.

She burst back into reality in the familiar gray facility of the NYPD where Luke was based. It was after hours but she knew Luke was known to stay late at the office. She slid down the wall to the floor, shaking and rubbing her arms to encourage warmth the return to her limbs. She clutched her bag between her chest and her bent legs. This was insane. Her world was going topsy turvy and she had no idea how or why. No one would explain it to her.

She took the chance to catch her breath before pushing herself to her feet. She brushed herself off and composed herself as best she could and hurried around the corner to the steps leading to the bull pen where the police desks stood scattered around the open floor below. It took a moment to locate Luke's desk but she bit her tongue when she noticed the other two people standing by it talking to the detective. The silence of late night and the high ceiling allowed the voices to carry up to her. They were soft and she missed a few things but the general idea was clear. All too clear.

"...Jocelyn Fairchild was alive, we knew we could find you easily," the man said. "And here you are. You never could be too far from her."

"Fairchild?" Clary whispered, ducking down below the wall to hide in case anyone below bothered to look up.

"Jocelyn? What about her?" That was Luke, his distinct baritone reverberating in the room.

"The Circle has her," the man said. "...the daughter too."

Clary strained to hear the conversation without revealing herself, muttering a soft curse when she continued to miss phrases and words.

"...have them both if you give us the Mortal Cup," a female voice said. That must belong to the other person in the group. What the hell was a mortal cup?

"I don't care about either of them," Luke said slowly and clearly. "They mean nothing to me." Clary felt her heart stutter and drop to the floor as she listened. "Kill them both if you like," the detective continued. Clary shuddered, covering her mouth with her hands attempting to muffle her terrified whimpers.

"Well well," the man said, sounding mildly impressed. "Since when did your heart freeze over?"

"When Valentine came back," Luke replied coldly.

"No one said anything about Valentine," the woman said quickly, too quickly.

"You didn't have to," Luke snapped.

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor echoed in the large room and Clary stiffened, readying herself to run should she need to. She was tempted to run now, but she needed to know. Why? Why would Luke betray her? What about her Mom? What about what Captain Vargas said that day about Luke crushing on her mom? Was all that a ploy? Why?

Why? Why? _Why?_

"My people want the Cup," Luke continued. "When I get my hands on it, and I will, I'm keeping it. You can tell that bastard Valentine I said that."

"Listen to m-"

"No you listen to me," Luke snarled viciously. "Get out of my office. If I catch you anywhere near here again, I'll consider you a threat. And believe you me, we're not exactly known to take threats lightly."

There was a beat of silence followed by footsteps and Clary bolted as quickly and as quietly as she could. Luke betrayed them. Did they find her mom because of him? Did Luke tell them where to find her? Who were they? What was this 'cup' thing? None of it made sense. She had to get out. She couldn't be caught. Mom.

She pushed out the door into the night, momentarily dismayed by the pouring down rain but refusing to stop and bemoan yet another thing to go wrong tonight. Instead, she ran straight into the downpour and down the police station steps towards the well lit streets. New York was the City That Never Sleeps and she was simultaneously relieved by this as well as terrified. Crowds of people continued to stroll along the sidewalks, many with umbrellas and some without. She dodged from umbrella to umbrella before noticing a blinking crosswalk sign and rushing across the crosswalk as fast as her feet could carry her.

Her ankle twisted when she stepped in an unanticipated pothole but she recovered and kept running cursing her high heel sandals. They simply weren't made for running. She paused when she finally made it to the curb to rub the rainwater off her face to clear her vision. What did her mom say? Find Luke and if not him then-

"Uncle Magnus."

Magnus lived in a loft in Brooklyn over his Tarot shop. He kept unusual hours but then, he was an unusual and eccentric man. He enjoyed watching her draw and even paid her to draw the designs for his Tarot card deck once he saw her mother's set. Clary reached down into her bag and felt for her phone, her wallet, anything. She felt the distinct texture of her sketchbook and then her cellphone in the corner.

She pulled it out and scrolled to Magnus's number in her contacts as she began moving again. She had a destination now and she'd gone to Magnus's shop often enough, rain or shine, to remember the way. The dial tone burbled in her ear. She scrambled for her earphones from her pocket, plugging them in and sticking the right earbud in her ear so the microphone on the cord could easily pick up her voice.

" _This had better be good_ ," a voice dripping with sleep grumbled into her ear.

"Magnus!" Clary cried in relief, fighting back tears. "Oh god Magnus thank god."

" _Clary?_ " Magnus asked sounding more awake now. " _Is that you? What's going on? Why're you calling so late?_ "

"Something's happened," Clary said, picking up her pace as she neared her uncle's shop. "I don't know what's going on. Mom's freaking out and Luke betrayed us and oh god they're trying to kill me. Magnus I killed someone!"

" _Slow down biscuit_ ," Magnus said gently. " _Catch your breath. Now tell me, where are you?_ "

"Almost to your shop," Clary answered. "I just turned the corner by that coffee shop you like."

" _I'll meet you at the door_ ," her uncle said. There was the sound of muffled scuffling and scratching as the mic on the other phone rubbed against something. " _Are you alone?_ "

"Yes, I think so." Clary looked over shoulder and saw no one she recognized. "I just got to your door. Where are you?"

" _Coming down now._ "

A light appeared from the back of the shop illuminating the tiny place through the windows. Clary pressed her face and hands against the locked glass door when Magnus stepped out of the hallway and into the dimly lit shop and rushed to the door. He snapped his fingers and door opened with a soft snick.

Clary didn't bother to question the small trick. She pushed the door open and flew into her uncle's arms. He embraced her briefly before pushing her aside to close and lock the shop door. Then he snatched her wrist and all but dragged her into the hallway, closing and locking that door behind them as well. Together, they hurried up the steps to his loft on the second floor above the shop.

"Now," Magnus said tugging Clary further into his home and away from the windowed wall facing the brick wall of the building on the other side of the alleyway behind the shop. He sat her down on a small futon currently oriented as a couch and settled next to her, holding her hands in his. "What happened? Tell me everything."

She did. She told him everything. She babbled and ended up dissolving into sobs somewhere along the way. When she finished talking, Magnus had pulled her into his arms and was rocking her gently like her mother used to do when she was younger. He said nothing, just held her while she cried. Finally, the stress and emotional turmoil from the night was allowed to catch up to her.

"What's going on?" she asked, her voice raw from crying. "Where's my mom? I need to tell her about Luke. What's-"

"Hush biscuit," Magnus said gently, pushing her back so he could meet her eyes. He placed both hands on her face and held her head so she had no choice but to look at him. "This is not your fault," he said firmly. "You need to know that. You did nothing wrong."

"I killed someo-"

" _Nothing_ wrong," Magnus repeated emphatically. He pushed a lock of sopping wet hair out of her face. "You're soaking wet. Let's get you warmed up and I'll explain as much as I can. Alright?"

Clary nodded vaguely, shivering as the cold brought on by fear, exhaustion, and the water still soaking her clothes and hair. "'Kay," she said.

She allowed Magnus to get up and grab a blanket from basket near a window but kept her eyes on him. A small, terrified part of her worried he would vanish too if she looked away. When he returned, he slung the blanket around her shoulders, scooping her hair out so it laid on top of it. He tucked the blanket securely around her and pulled her back against him.

"Clary," he said, his voice tense but still gentle. "What I'm about to tell you is something we've all kept from you for various reasons. All good ones, trust me, but still." He heaved a deep sigh and squeezed her. "Those people you saw, the Circle, they were hunting your mother. It's possible they didn't know you existed until tonight. But you need to know that... Clary, you're special. You always were in so many ways. But this is different. I'm special too. I- Oh bugger."

He sighed again and Clary imagined him rolling his eyes to heaven like he often did when searching for a way out of a situation. "This was never supposed to be my job," he groaned. "Alright, I'll be frank." He sat back so Clary could see him again. His face was tense and his eyes were concerned for her, but they were also afraid of her.

"What?" she asked. "What?" she asked again with a wry laugh when Magnus hestitated. "What could be worse than crazy people with glowing swords killing people and warping to the police station in a second?"

Magnus's face screwed up anxiously and Clary hesitated. Finally Magnus's shoulders drooped in surrender and he opened his mouth to speak. "Clary, I'm a wa-"

He was interrupted by the sound of glass breaking downstairs. Instantly, Magnus was on his feet and dragging Clary over to a dark corner of the loft. "They found us," he muttered. "We need to leave."

"Leave?" Clary parroted nervously. "Where?"

She stared as Magnus glanced at her for a moment in indecision before snapping his fingers and glowing orbs of smoky blue manifested in his hands. "Here," he said. He turned and waved his hands just like Dot had and the familiar veil of rippling purple light glowed on the wall where a doorway once stood. He turned back and held out his hand. "Please," he said. "I can keep you safe."

The sharp sound of something impacting wood startled Clary from her shock. She whirled to see the loft door shuddering on its hinges. Someone was trying to break it down. This was too much. Her head was going to burst. When a glowing sword pierced the thick wood, Magnus took the choice from her. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her through the veil with him. She fell back into his arms just in time to see the door break, then she was facing the rippling purple veil again. An instant later, the veil was gone, leaving behind a plain brick wall.

"I'm sorry," Magnus said, his voice full of regret. "I didn't want to tell you like this. Granted, none of this was supposed to happen in the first place."

Clary turned around slowly to stare at her uncle and caught sight of what was behind him and her eyes grew round.

"I'm a warlock, Clary," Magnus said. His eyes were a soothing gold and slitted like a cat's.

But, however beautiful and strange his eyes were, it was the people behind him that stole her attention. Specifically the young Indian man with two small horns on his forehead. "Oh," she said.

Her vision clouded. She had the brief sensation of falling then nothing.


	2. Questions

**A/N:** Quick update. The next one may not be so quick cause of life, hw, and my current long running series _Shadow Justice_ series that is desperate for an update. Also, I'm waiting anxiously for the Malec episode this Tuesday.

 **Chapter summary:** In which the Lightwood trio fails at tracking Clary, Magnus answers some questions, and Dot needs a nap.

* * *

 **2: Questions**

The building towering over them was just a collection an old manufacturing building converted into lofts some time in the early eighties probably. The entrance was a narrow walkway between to other buildings into a small patio. The foot door was smashed to pieces. What was left was hanging on its hinges, creaking as it swung in the wind. A dark stain on the patio was slowly washing away in the rain. Blood.

Jace drew his seraph blade and moved cautiously towards to broken door. He couldn't see any runes or anything that the screamed supernatural. In fact the place was suspiciously mundane. Inside was a wreck. Broken glass was scatter across the floor. Shattered pottery and dented knick knacks were strewn all over the place.

"Hey," Alec whispered from behind Jace. "You smell that?"

Jace paused to sniff the air. "Smoke," he confirmed, looking around for the source.

"What happened here?" Isabelle breathed, taking in the destruction. "And where are the bodies?"

"Good question," Jace said, turning the corner and holding his glowing blade to the throat of the first person they'd seen since arriving here. "Mind answering that?"

The person was a woman with long dark hair matted with blood and dirt. Her face was covered in soot and her dress was tattered as if something had ripped claws through the fabric. Small cuts and bruised dotted her arms and her left eyes was nearly swollen shut. She was curled in a dark corner staring up at Jace's amber eyes with wide-eyed fear.

"Please," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Please don't kill me."

"What happened here?" Jace demanded.

The woman flinched. "You killed them," she whimpered. "You killed them. Why're you asking? You killed them. Killed everyone."

"What do you mean?" Isabelle demanded, stepping up next to Jace. "We just got here."

The woman snorted. "Then you missed the party," she sneered. "Your people did this. They took her."

"Took who?" Jace demanded.

"Killed or took?" Jace said. "Which is it?"

"Killed them. Took her."

"Shadowhunters attacking Mundanes?" Isabelle said doubtfully.

"We would never break the Accords like that," Alec said, fingering his half drawn bow thoughtfully.

Isabelle and Jace turned to look around the room once more. None of this was adding up. However, because their backs were turned, only Alec noticed the woman's jaw enlarge, deforming into vicious fangs just as she nimbly sprang towards Isabelle. He didn't think, just lifted his bow and released the knocked arrow. The demon screeched and burst into ash, startling his siblings.

Jace stood stunned for a moment before swallowing his pride and nodding to his _parabatai_. "Thanks," he muttered reluctantly.

"Don't worry," Alec said. "I won't hold it against you." Jace's lips twitched upwards. "This time," Alec added, smirking as he watched the amusement slip from his brother's eyes.

Isabelle rolled her eyes tolerantly before her smile slipped. "On a serious note," she began looking around the room again, "this isn't the place I'd expect to find a demon. And what it said about Shadowhunters killing the Mundanes-"

"Lies," Alec said shaking his head. "It's a demon. It'd say anything to get what it wants."

"But why did it stay here after the others left?" Isabelle pressed.

"You think it knew we were coming," Jace considered darkly.

"I think it thought _someone_ was coming," Isabelle said. "Has anyone noticed there aren't any bodies?"

"She's right," Alec said.

"But what about the girl?" Jace said. "We tracked her here." He spread his arms to encompass the place. "So where is she? If she's dead, where's the body?"

"You think she isn't dead," Alec said nodding absently.

"Or she didn't come here at all," Isabelle offered.

"Or she did and this was all a trap," Alec said, glancing back at the ash where the demon had been killed. Just then sirens began wailing outside steadily getting closer. "We need to get back to the Institute," he said. "Leave the Mundanes to their business. Hodge will know what to do."

Jace rolled his shoulders and reluctantly followed his brother out the door. They would have to come back later once the Mundanes finished here. He couldn't help but wonder about the girl as he ran with his siblings. She was a Shadowhunter, of that he was sure. He'd seen the seraph blade glow in her hands. It wouldn't have done that if it hadn't sensed angel blood in the way she handled herself was that of a Mundane, not a Shadowhunter.

* * *

"This doesn't make sense," Hodge said, raking his fingers through his reddish hair. "New Shadowhunters don't just appear out of nowhere."

"Yes, well she did," Isabelle said, crossing her arms over her ample chest.

"I saw the seraph blade react to her," Jace said. He leaned against the table by the stained glass window, arms crossed and head bowed in thought. "We all did. Seraph blades only act that way with Shadowhunters."

"I think it's ridiculous too," Alec said earning him a half-hearted glare from Jace. "But Jace is right. We all saw it and seraph blades only react to Shadowhunters."

"I believe you," Hodge stopped pacing and sighed. "I believe you I just don't _believe_ you. How can there be Shadowhunter we've never heard of before? We have archives of these things."

"She could be in hiding," Isabelle suggested. "Or undercover. Look, ridiculous or not, believe it or not, it happened. She wielded a seraph blade, killed a demon, and when he followed her we found that home trashed a demon there. Something's happening here."

"I know," Hodge said. "Were you at least able to figure out who was buying up Mundane blood?"

"No," Jace said pushing away from the table. "The girl interfered before I could finish the interrogation. That's another thing. She has the Sight. She saw me with my glamour up. Even if she's not a Shadowhunter, she's got a good grasp of the Sight at the very least."

"There's another thing," Isabelle said hesitantly. "Before we killed it, the demon said Shadowhunters had been the ones to destroy that house. It said they killed them."

"I doubt that," Hodge said.

"So do we," Alec said. "But someone did that and if it wasn't rogue Shadowhunters, then who was it?"

Hodge rubbed the back of his neck, his eyebrows lifting to his hairline as he shrugged. "At least we have more information than we did before," he said with a nod. "Sit tight. I'll check and see if there were any previous attacks like that, both supernatural and mundane and we'll go from there. How's that sound?" he added looking to Alec.

"Sounds good," Alec said. He watched Hodge walked down the steps towards the main room of the Institute. "This is going to be a long night," he muttered. Isabelle reached over to scratch his back smiling fondly at him.

* * *

Clary woke up slowly, still feeling the lingering threads of sleep clinging to her mind. She shifted, rolling to her side to fight the urge to get up. It was then she noticed the warm pressure of a hand on her shoulder. Curious, she opened her eyes and looked up, mildly surprised to see Magnus sitting on the bed beside her.

"Magnus?" she mumbled.

Magnus golden cat eyes sparkled sadly and suddenly the events of the previous night flooded into her mind and she was fully awake. "Magnus," she said again, pushing herself up into a sitting position.

"Don't move too fast," Magnus said, reaching out to steady her. "You've been asleep for a few hours now. You needed it."

She looked around, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The bed she lay on a king size and so soft she could feel herself sinking pleasantly into the warm embrace of the pillows, comforter, and sheets. Her hair was dry now but definitely tangled. She reached up to pick at her shirt and had the unpleasant realization that she wasn't wearing a shirt. In fact, she wasn't wearing any of her clothes. She was wearing a silky house robe that was open down the front. She pulled the two flaps closed, covering her body as best she could, a tremendous blush coloring her cheeks as she stared at Magnus horrified.

Surprisingly, Magnus has a similar blush on his cheeks although his was nowhere near as dark. He shrugged weakly. "Your clothes were wet," he said by way of explanation. "They're laying on that chair." He nodded to a papasan chair in the main room. "I promise I didn't look."

"Then if you didn't then who...?" Clary asked, almost afraid to find out.

"I did," Magnus said. When Clary glared, he rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers so smoky blue flames erupted from his open palm. "Magic, remember? I never saw a thing. Course, even if I did, it wouldn't have mattered," he said, a teasing smile twitching the corners of his lips. "I've seen you naked before, Clary Fray. I changed your diapers a time or two too," he added, waving a finger at her.

Clary flushed and batted the finger away not fighting the small smile. Magnus grinned broadly, glad to see her mood lifted. But it shrank just as quickly when Clary sighed. He bit his lip and dropped his gaze.

"So," she said, drawing his attention. "Magic?"

"Yes," Magnus said.

"And you're a...warlock?" he asked. "As in, burn 'em at the stake warlock."

Magnus winced, scrunching his nose. "Not the best of times that," he said. "But yes. Although, I will say warlocks aren't exactly the way you're probably familiar with. Modern pop culture is filled with both truth and myth so elegantly and more often than not inelegantly tied together that sometimes it's difficult to figure out which is which. Even for me," he said as if the fact legitimately surprised him.

"Dot made that veil thing just like you did," Clary said.

"The portal?"

Clary nodded, tucking her red hair behind her ear. "Is she a warlock too?"

"She is indeed," Magnes cobfirmed. "Not nearly as powerful as I am granted, but yes."

"So the eyes?" Clary asked, gesturing to Magnus's golden eyes. "Do all warlocks have those?"

"No. This is my warlock mark," Magnus confirmed. "Every warlock has one. It just varies from person to person. I have cat's eyes but I know warlocks with horns, some with gills, some with blue skin-"

" _Blue_ skin?" Clary asked, fascinated despite herself.

Magnus smiled. "The world is strange and colorful place, Clary," he said wistfully. "Sometimes it's black as night, but there's always color. Even a raven's wing resembles a rainbow when put in the right light."

Clary snickered. "Look at you trying to sound like Gandalf," she teased, her mood lightening.

Magnus scoffed. "I predate him, thank you very much."

"What? You're two hundred years old or something?" she joked.

"Over four hundred actually," Magnus said in his best teacher voice, holding up a finger to emphasize his point. "And still fabulous if I do say so myself. Which I do."

Clary's eyes bugged. "Four hundred? You're old."

Magnus gave her an affronted look. "At least I'm prettier than you."

"Not possible," Clary said with grin.

"Then I guess we'll have to agree to disagree," Magnus said magnanimously. He waited until Clary's giggles subsided before speaking again. "I'm sorry for what happened to your mother," he said gently. "I swear I didn't know. I give you my word, I will help you in any way I can."

Clary nodded quietly. "Who were they?" she asked after a minute. "I heard one of them say something about a Cup but-"

"The Mortal Cup," Magnus said.

"Yeah. What is it?"

"It's a relic of lost times. Some say it's older than even me," he said with a sly wink.

"Older than you?" Clary asked in mock shock. "So does that mean it's prettier than both of us?"

That startled a laugh out of the warlock. "I should say not," he said with mock sternness. "I curse the day I'm out-prettied by an object."

Clary smiled. "But why would they want it? This Cup relic thing?" she asked seriously. "And why would they think my mom has it?"

"Lots of reasons." Magnus bit his lip and sighed. "I honestly know about as much as you do. For the most part anyway."

Clary ducked her head and began drawing absently on the silk comforter with her fingernail. "Have you heard from my mom?" she asked.

Magnus swallowed and shook his head. "I haven't no," he said. "I'm sorry I didn't get your calls earlier. I was at my club and it's often hard to hear my phone over the noise."

Clary looked up in genuine surprise. "You own a club? Since when?"

"Since a few years ago," Magnus said with a shrug. "It's mostly a Downworlder club but Mundanes are welcome, if they can get in that is," he added wryly.

"Downworlder?"

"Ah, yes, excuse the lingo." Magnus shifted so he sat with his legs fully on the bed facing Clary. "A Downworlder is anyone who isn't human," he held up one finger, "Shadowhunter," he lifted a second finger, "or a demon or angel," he finished, lifting two more fingers. "There are a few other exceptions of course, but generally that's how it is. Warlocks like yours truly," he said, placing a hand over his heart and fluttering his eyelashes to draw a smile from his guest, "the Seelie, vampires, werewolves-"

"Vampires and werewolves?" Clary gasped, leaning forward eagerly. "They're real?"

"Oh very much so," Magnus said, matching Clary's froward movement as if sharing a secret. "And believe you me, everything Hollywood cooks up about the whole vampires versus werewolves thing is tame compared to the real thing."

He waved his hands as if dismissing the entire subject entirely. "Mundanes now," he continued, "are humans and the Shadowhunters are the Nephilim. Half-human half-angel crossbreeds who kill demons." He paused and stared at Clary significantly. "You are a Shadowhunter. So was you mother."

Clary blinked, laughed, then sat back as she tried to come to terms with what was happening. She dropped her head into her hands and huffed. Her mind took the chance to go over everything she had learned over the past night and found itself running in circles.

"This is..." She shook her head, bright red hair swishing over her too pale skin. "This is too much." She laughed in disbelief. "I feel like I was suddenly dropped into a fantasy novel or something ridiculous like that. It's too unreal and too real all at the same time."

Magnus rolled his shoulders and sat back awkwardly. "I admit, I did think you were taking all this a lot better than I originally anticipated," he said. He ran a hand through his hair and massaged the back of his neck. "At least you didn't faint like you did last night. No judgement, of course," he said quickly. "From what I understand, last night was not high on your list of good nights."

A breathy laugh escaped the girl and Magnus wilted guiltily. "Look," he started hesitantly. "I can leave if you want. You can stay in here, rest up, get dressed..." He waved a hand vaguely. "Come out when your ready and we'll have a midnight snack."

"You mean breakfast?" Clary asked, her voice muffled by her hands.

"That too," Magnus said. "I'll have some food ready. You like eggs? I may even make some pancakes. You can get some of your strength back so we face the day. How's that sound?"

While Clary didn't respond verbally, she did nod. Magnus placed a tan, long fingered hand on her shoulder, running his thumb over the silk in a soothing gesture. "Call if you need me," he said.

Without another word, he slid off the bed and made is way out of his room, making sure to close the door softly behind him. Once outside, he leaned back against the wood and ran both hands up over his face and through his hair. This was never supposed to happen. This was Jocelyn's job. She was supposed to tell Clary everything on her eighteenth birthday. Damn Valentine. Damn the Circle. Damn his back luck.

He groaned, slumping against the wood. He was exhausted. He'd only just managed to fall asleep when Clary called him and this whole madness started. He was lucky enough to snag a quick light nap while Clary was unconscious but he couldn't risk her waking without him. She needed his protection right now. Especially right now.

When Jocelyn first approached him so many years ago, he knew he would regret ever helping her. But Clary grew on him; more than he thought she would actually. She was bright, cheerful, clever, artistic, supportive, and more importantly tolerant. She tolerated his eccentricities even before learning his true nature. Sometimes she even encouraged him to be crazy. She was a devious youngster and Magnus enjoyed her company.

He sighed. Look what that got him?

"Back to the world of the living, are we?"

Magnus slid his hands down his face just enough to peek irritably through his fingers at the offending party. Elias stood in his living room, arms crossed and glaring at Magnus like the bastard owned the place. Deliberately, Magnus moved his fingers so they covered his eyes and was satisfied when he heard Elias huff in frustration.

"Not now Elias," Magnus said, pushing himself away from the door and making his way over to the kitchen. Might as well start on breakfast. The sun would be rising soon anyway so it wasn't too early for food.

"Then when?" the younger warlock demanded.

Magnus wondered absently if the little horns on Elias's head ever twitched when he got annoyed. "When I feel like it," he said, pulling out a pan from under the stove. "I run on my time only, Elias. No one else's. Speaking of which," he turned around, an uncracked egg in his free hand. "Why are you still here?"

The younger warlock gave Magnus his equivalent of a bitchface to which Magnus matched it with one of his own. "Don't start that with me, young man," Magnus warned. "I've been doing this much longer than you and I can out bitch you easily any day."

Elias puffed his wiry body up with pent up frustration, his lips moving furiously. Magnus wondered what nasty words the other warlock clearly wanted to say. But this was growing tiring. "Spill it or leave it," the High Warlock of Brooklyn finally said in annoyance.

"She's a Mundane," he said. "She's not supposed to know about us. You've thrown sanity to the wind just by letting her in here."

"Your logic in inherently flawed though, I grant you, that of no real fault of your own so I'll allow that the slip by for now. However," Magnus continued, allowing his golden eyes to gleam, "this is my home. Therefore, my rule trumps here. You don't like it, you can leave. New York is a big city. Take the hint and leave or behave yourself and stay." Magnus cracked the egg on the edge of the cast stainless steel pan and placed it over the open flame of his stove. "On second thought," he said, looking back at Elias, "leave. We'll talk payment for services rendered later. For now, I need quiet."

He focused on the frying eggs and waited to hear the tell-tale sound of footsteps as the other warlock left his loft before setting the spatula aside. He carefully placed both hands on the stove and hung his head wearily. "I need to sort this out," he muttered softly to himself. "Jocelyn what have you gotten yourself into?"

* * *

Dorothea stayed on the busy sidewalks, taking care to always be in a crowd. Her limp was still noticeable but not nearly as pronounced as it had been. Jocelyn was gone. Clary was gone. The Cup was who-knows-where and now her phone was destroyed. The puddle it had fallen into the night before when that Shadowhunter tossed her out the window had thoroughly ruined it. She still clutched it tightly in her hand. It was the only thing keeping her going at this point.

She was tired and sore and her power levels were dangerously low. She needed to rest and let her magic rejuvenate but she couldn't afford to. Resting meant dropping her guard which she simply could not do. She needed to find Clary and who better to help find a missing person than Detective Luke Garroway. Hopefully, Clary would be with him. Her only other chance would be Magnus but he was no in his little Tarot shop as usual. She mentally cursed Magnus's habit of moving his loft at inopportune moments when he had a flight of fancy.

Dot might have been able to find Magnus had her power been less drained but as it was, she could barely manage a portal. She knew the Circle was hunting her. They'd been tracking her portaling all night long. She was taking a huge risk going to the NYPD. If she even thought her presence would blow Luke's cover, she would leave. She could possibly manage a fire message to the werewolf but for now she needed water and a dry place to stand and catch her breath. If she had to, she would wait until Magnus's club Pandemonium opened this evening and talk to him then. The people and noise could give them some modicum of security.

Her only solace was the knowledge that the Circle did not have Clary or the Cup, yet. But they knew a warlock had been involved. That meant most, if not all of the warlocks were in danger from the Circle. She took refuge under a bus stop and clutched her drowned phone to her chest. She would catch a ride around the block. Hopefully, the Mundane method of travel would shake her tail long enough to let her rest for a few minutes. Maybe she could even close her eyes. Just for a couple minutes. Maybe.


	3. A Long Night

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay. I got sick.

 **Chapter summary:** In which Luke doesn't trust anyone, Dot has a temper, Simon is a worry wart, and Clary and Magnus get bad news.

* * *

 **3: A Long Night**

Alaric turned in a slow circle, taking in what was left of his partner's friend's place. Jocelyn Fray may have been a single mother but she knew how to keep a clean house. He'd visited the place for the occasional luncheon but Jocelyn had always been more Lucian's friend than his. Speaking of which, he glanced over his shoulder to see Luke shaking his head in dismay.

"Need a moment?" he asked, knowing the answer before it was given.

Luke pursed his lips and nodded. "Go grab some coffee for the guys back at the office. I should be done by then," he said. "That way we'll have an excuse for being late to work."

Alaric gave his friend and partner a friendly slap on the shoulder and made his way out of the home leaving Luke alone. Lucian climbed the stairs to the main living space hoping to find something that would tell him what happened here. He suspected the cause but he couldn't be sure without proof. There weren't any bodies which made him think both Clary and Jocelyn were still alive. He couldn't decide whether to be relieved by that knowledge or afraid.

Eventually his sighed. He couldn't get any more information with what was left so he made his way into Clary's room. It was burnt out. Jocelyn had tried to wipe any trace of her daughter from existence which strengthened his hope that perhaps Clary had made it out alive. Luke sent up a silent prayer to whoever was listening that she was safe wherever she was. Then he started gathering what few items he could find that had survived the flames and began packing them into a box. He would keep them safe.

The sound of a creaking board alerted him to the presence of someone else. He continued gathering trinkets with one hand while the other slipped to his gun holster, popping the fastener and easing the weapon from its place. He counted the faint steps until he judged they were close enough. Then he spun to the hallway door, his gun drawn and aimed directly at the intruder's head. However, he hesitated to pull the trigger when he saw the person.

"Dot," he said, lowering the gun just enough to see her whole face.

The warlock was gasping, her chest heaving from exertion and she seemed exhausted. "Lucian," she said. "What are you doing here? Where's Clary?"

Luke finally lowered his gun completed, returning it to its holster. "What do you mean where's Clary?" he demanded. "I thought she was you."

"With me?" Dot exclaimed. "I sent her through a Portal to you."

"You sent her through a Portal? Alone?" Luke groaned. "She could be lost in limbo for all we know."

Dot reeled back as if struck. "We? I didn't have much of a choice. Circle members were literally breaking down the door. I had to get her out so I sent her to you!"

"Me? What? When? Where?"

"All I know is that I sent her to the police station where you were supposed to be," the warlock said fiercely. "Where else was I supposed to send her to? Magnus? I don't know where his Lair is and you and I both know he only visits his shop when Clary or Jocelyn needed him."

Luke shook his head and put his hands on the box of things and sighed. "Did you try calling him?" he asked. "The guy practically lives with his phone in a his pocket."

"What do you think I'm stupid? That was the first thing I did," Dot said, stepping towards Luke. Her eyes burned with fury in the dark, burnt out room. "He didn't pick up. The next think I know, I'm getting thrown out a plate glass window from the second floor. I just barely got away and my magic is dangerously low. I do not have the time or patience to deal with your pathetic temper tantrums and blame gaming right now!"

"No, no, I..." Luke sighed and stood. He shook his head and tried again. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. His whole demeanor drooped. "I shouldn't have jumped on you that. I know you care about Jocelyn and Clary. I just..."

Dot's relaxed. "Thank you," she said, putting a cap on her temper. She was too tired for this. Her control was slipping and she could feel the pain of her dwindling magic like a stitch in her side after a long run. She dropped her eyes to take in the destruction of the room Clary once called her's. It was then that she noticed the box sitting on the charred bed. "What are doing with those things?" she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Luke gathered himself and straightened, reminded of his business here. "I can't let Clary be tracked," he said. "Not by anyone."

Dot's brow furrowed in confusion. "Wha... But we don't know where she is? How are we going to find her if we can't track her?"

"If we don't know where she is, and I'm fairly certain Valentine and the Circle don't know where she is, than it's for the best," the detective said firmly. "The fewer people who know where she is, the better."

"We don't know if Clary's safe or not," Dot insisted, moving closer. "Look just let me track her. Once I know she's safe I leave you alone."

"I said," Luke said, jerking the box further from the warlock's reach, "the fewer people who know where she is the better. That means no one tracks her. Not even you."

"You don't trust me," Dot whispered, her already pale face hardening in hurt.

"I don't trust anyone," Luke said, his voice hard.

Dot bit her lips, preventing her saying something she knew she would regret. She didn't have time for this. With a frustrated huff, she turned on her heel to get out of this place.

"Dot wait."

"Why?" she snapped. "You don't trust me so why are you talking to me?"

"Did you ward this place?" Luke asked.

Dot glared at the detective and sneered. "Who else would've made sure the Mundanes stayed away from here?" she hissed. "No one else thought to do that." She was gratified what Luke winced. "Now, is that all or can I go officer?"

Luke gave her a look which she matched with equal ferocity. Eventually, the detective looked away. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"Why should I tell you?" Dot said coldly. "You don't trust me. Why should I trust you?"

Without another word, the warlock spun and walked down the hallway and out of the loft. Luke sighed, regretting his harsh words. He had not intended to alienate his friend but he did need to know Clary was safe. He desperately wanted Dot to track Clary, if only for his peace of mind, but he couldn't risk it. Something happened to blow their cover. That meant there could be a mole. He couldn't trust anyone.

Dot mentioned she'd called Magnus Bane but hadn't received an answer. That meant Magnus had probably been somewhere he either couldn't get cell service or he hadn't heard his phone ring in the first place. Both of which were possibilities. He looked around the room one more time to be sure he'd grabbed anything he though could even remotely be used to track Clary, then grabbed the small box and carried it outside.

* * *

By this point Simon was almost out of his mind with worry. He'd tried to call Clary's cell phone numerous times with no success. It just kept going to voicemail. He left a voicemail the first five times he'd called until he couldn't take it anymore and just kept calling. He had to stop at one point to frantically get back to his van and plug his phone in to recharge it when it threatened the shut off due to the low battery power. If he had to leave in a hurry, Maureen would probably not mind too much about being left behind, hopefully. He used that time to shoot text after text.

A sudden loud crash of thunder shocked him from his concentration and he looked up through the windshield to the rainy sky outside. When he looked back down, he was just in time to see his phone hiccup causing the messenger app to crash. He bit his tongue to keep a rather nasty curse he wouldn't normally ever even consider using from slipping out. The moved to reopen the messenger app when he noticed the Find Friends app and almost smacked himself. Of course, how dumb could he be for forgetting that app.

Shifting to a more comfortable position, he opened the app and clicked on Clary's name. He thanked every higher power he could think of when Clary's icon appeared on the screen moments later. He waited for the map to finish loading feeling worry begin to make an unwelcome comeback when it took a painfully long time for the map to load. Eventually, the app stopped trying and returned to the home page. Stunned, Simon tried again. Again, the app gave up trying to find Clary's phone after a minute and returned to the home page.

"Oh god," he breathed.

She was gone. Clary was gone. Holy cow, what was going to tell Ms. Fray? Hey Ms. Fray, I know I said we were only going to my band's performance, but we also went to that twenty-one and up night club _Pandemonium_ and Clary sort of, kind of left without telling me and now I can't find her? Oh hell no! He valued his life, thank you very much. There was no way on God's green earth that he was going to do that. Not yet. But what else could he do?

He bit his thumb and focused on calming down. He couldn't think straight and freak out at the same time. Okay, think Simon think. He knew it was late and he could blame Clary's lack of replies to his calls and texts to her phone being silenced, or turned off. That could explain why the Find Friends app couldn't find her either. For all Simon knew, she could be home, safe and sound with her phone off.

But then again, she had been talking to air earlier. What if she'd been drugged and was tripping on something? Oh please no. Simon doubted Clary would handle being high as a skyscraper well right now. Ever, actually. He grumbled in frustration, tonight was not his night.

He checked his phone charge and was satisfied when the battery percent displayed 51% in the upper right hand corner. Unplugging the device, he tucked the charger cord back in his pocket, put the keys in the ignition, started the van and drove off careful to avoid pedestrians until he finally made it back into the familiar New York City traffic.

He would just stop by the Fray place, check if anything was amiss then head home. He'd try calling Clary again in the morning. Hopefully, she'd be awake and her was back on. He was probably worrying over nothing anyway. If he still heard nothing from her by then, he'd called Luke. The guy was a detective, right? He'd know what to do. Why not call him now? No Simon, it was the middle of the night. Most sane people were asleep by now. Did that mean he was the insane person?

Holy mackerel, this whole thing was ridiculous.

He drove slowly down the street Clary lived on and sighed in relief when, despite the heavy rain, he noticed the police car parked in the parallel parking spot by the shop beneath Clary's place. That meant Luke was probably there. But was that a good thing or bad thing? He looked up at the building and saw all the windows were dark. That meant no one was awake. So maybe Luke and Ms. Fray had finally caved and... Simon whistled lowly, impressed.

"Smooth dog," he whispered. That could be why Clary left so early. Or maybe not

Simon put a stop to that thought. Well, on the bright side it didn't look like anything was amiss, so he continued to drive down the road. He'd wait till morning and check then. Maybe Luke would know what happened.

* * *

Magnus was just finishing up the latch batch of pancakes when he heard his bedroom door open. He scooped up the hot pancakes and added them to the heaping pile already on the plate and smiled at his house guest. "Morning sunshine," he said. "Pancake? I think there are a few left."

Clary smile weakly and picked at her jeans. Magnus sighed and gestured to the couch. "Sit wherever," he said. "I do."

That got a bigger smile and Magnus counted that as a small victory. He picked up the plate of pancakes in his right hand and the plate of scrambled eggs in the other. "Don't be shy," he said, placing both plates on the coffee table by the couch. "I'll get us some forks and drinks and we can start our midnight breakfast."

"What time is it anyway?" Clary said, following Magnus back to the kitchen. "Why's it still dark outside?" She turned to look out the huge window on the wall to the right. The view was of a brick wall, nothing to ride home about but she didn't mind too much.

"Just past five," the warlock said, pouring himself and Clary cups of steaming hot camomile tea. He paused to snag a couple forks and knives from the silverware drawer before returning to the couch. He plopped down next to Clary and handed her a mug and her utensils. She took them with a tired smile and immediately drove the fork into the top pancake.

"Ooh, staking a claim already," Magnus teased. "That's my girl." He winked and snagged the second pancake. "I hope you don't mind sharing plates. I-"

"It's fine," Clary said quickly, smiling around her mouthful. She immediately blushed and covered her mouth with her hand, holding up a finger to for Magnus to wait. When she swallowed, she continued. "I know you weren't exactly expecting guests."

"Well, I can't say I'm not happy you're here," Magnus said with a sly grin. "This way I get to give your birthday present. Granted," he said, "I thought I wouldn't get the chance till tomorrow, but seeing as it is technically tomorrow I suppose it doesn't matter too much." He snapped his fingers and a brand new sketchbook, a pack of brand new pencils, and a leather bound packet of something appeared on the coffee table. "I hope you like them," he said softly, taking a sip of his tea to hid his blush.

Clary had just scooped a forkful of eggs in her mouth when Magnus snapped and the gifts appeared in a burst of blue sparks. She dropped the fork on the plate and reached for the pack of pencils. They were all a different hardness and the set even included a stick of charcoal. Her smile grew when she reached for the leather pouch and ran a hand over the folded leather. It had been engraved with her initials and other various designs. It was a work of art itself. She carefully untied the thin leather string and opened the pouch, her breath catching when she saw the pristine chalks. These plus the brand new sketchbook were perfect.

She didn't even notice she was crying until warm arms looped around her neck. She leaned into the support and sobbed softly into Magnus's chest. It was the day after her eighteenth birthday. It had promised to be a magnificent day and it all fell to ashes. And what was she doing about it? Crying like a baby.

Abruptly, she drew a deep breath and held it until the urge to sob faded. She let it out slowly making sure she was back in control of herself and sat up aware of Magnus's concerned gaze on her. "It's okay," she said. "I'm fine. I guess," she added.

Magnus didn't press her, he just nodded and went back to eating so she could calm herself without an audience. He heard a faint buzzing sound and looked up and around the room for the source. He turned and sighed when he noticed his phone vibrating on the kitchen counter. He must have set it down to cook. Standing, he walked over to check the caller ID. He was tempted to ignore it when he saw Elias's name on the screen but decided to pick up anyway. It could be important. Elias may be a bit overbear but he was a decent informant.

He slid his thing across the screen and held the phone to his ear. "Magnus the Magnificent at your service," he sang cheerily.

" _Shut up Magnus!_ " Elias snapped.

Magnus's teasing mood vanished. "Elias are you alright?" he asked, concerned.

" _The hell I am_ ," the other warlock said, his voice wavering with what Magnus recognized as fear. Elias was rarely afraid. Concerned yes, worried yes, but rarely afraid.

"What happened?" Magnus asked seriously. "Are you alright?"

" _I- Hold on_." There was the sound of gasping and traffic in the background leaving Magnus confused. " _It's the Circle_ ," Elias said quickly. " _They're apparently hunting warlocks_."

"What? Why?" Magnus demanded. He reached for his tea and noticed with with trepidation that his hand was shaking. He decided to grip the island corner instead, tightening his fingers on the granite edge.

" _I don't know. I didn't stop to ask_ ," Elias said in such a way that Magnus could practically hear the eye roll. " _Something about your friend Jocelyn and a potion. I don't know. They drew swords and I was out of there._ "

Magnus felt the phone slip from his fingers as a cold settled in the pit of his stomach, catching it before his fell completely from his grasp. Damn it. Valentine must have figured out a warlock made that potion for Jocelyn. But why was he taking it out on Elias? Magnus knew the younger warlock could not possibly have the knowledge and experience required to make a potion like that. Even Magnus didn't know who made the potion or what went into it. That wasn't important right now.

"Alright, are you alone?" Magnus asked, moving quickly to his window. He leaned out to look both ways down the alleyway below as well as the roofs above. You never knew with the supernatural.

" _No_ ," Elias replied. " _I've got a family here me. Warlocks. The Circle didn't exactly discriminate_."

So the Circle didn't know who made the potion either. That was both a plus and a minus. Magnus quickly closed the window door to his small balcony and turned back to his living area. He froze when he noticed Clary watching him with concern. He'd completely forgotten she was here.

" _Magnus?_ " Elias called.

"I'm here," he replied. "Elias, listen carefully, do you remember where my Lair is?"

" _Yes, I was just there Magnus. Wha-_ "

"Then get here as fast as you can," Magnus said, holding up a hand a stem Clary's questions. "Bring the others with you. I'll send fire messages to the other warlocks in Brooklyn and offer them protection. If the Circle is active again, then we need to stand together."

" _Magnus_ ," Elias said quickly. " _Thanks_."

Magnus nodded. "You can thank me when you get here," he said. He hung up before anything else could be said. "That was Elias," Magnus said, glancing at Clary. "He was here when I brought you here last night."

"You mean the guy with the-" She paused and held fingers up to her forehead.

"Horns?" Magnus asked, a wry smile on his face. Clary nodded awkwardly but the warlock waved absently. "Don't worry. There's nothing to be ashamed of. You're not making fun of him, just asking a question of clarification. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Okay good," Clary said, settling back into the couch. She reached for another pancake, daintily cutting herself a piece with her fork before looking back up at Magnus. "Your friend, Elias, is he alright?" she asked.

"He will be," Magnus said, glancing around his apartment as if waiting for something. "Apparently the same people who were hunting you last night have expanded their prey to include warlocks."

"Why would they do that?" Clary asked, bewildered. Here eyes widened and the blood drained from her already pale face. "Oh god. They know you helped me escape."

"Not me specifically, no," Magnus corrected. "A warlock yes, but not me. But while I'm sure that may be part of it, that isn't the main reason."

"Then what's the real reason?"

"A warlock must have given your mother a potion of some kind and the Circle wants its effects to be undone," Magnus explained. "No it wasn't me and no I don't know what the potion is or how to undo it. That's all I know right now."

"So this Circle group is hunting warlocks just to figure out what this potion thing is?" Clary asked in disbelief.

"They aren't the nicest bunch, if you know what I mean," Magnus mumbled.

A sharp snapping sound followed by a dull roar like distant river rapids or an ocean at night filled the room cutting their conversation short. Clary whirled around and stared at the rippling veil of energy that appeared in the open doorway that lead to Magnus's bedroom. A second later Elias burst through followed closely by a balding older man with what looked like gils on the sides of his neck and a young girl who held onto the man's hand with small, white knuckled hands. Her young face was scrunched up and her eyes were wide with fear.

Once the three of them were through, Elias banished the Portal.

"Did anyone see you?" Magnus demanded, coming up to Elias.

"No, but they would have if we hadn't left when we did," the horned warlock said breathing hard.

"Good. Alright," Magnus said, clapping his hands together. "Clary you met Elias," he said gesturing to the warlock beside him. "Elias, this is Clary. And this must be little Zoe I've heard so much about," he said, a smile on his lips as he placed a reassuring hand on the little girl's shoulder, "and you must be Adham, correct?"

The gilled warlock nodded clasping Magnus's offered hand and shaking it, a relieved smile on his face. Little Zoe watched her father interact with Magnus warily before waving shyly at him. She stared at Clary cautiously, unsure of how to approach her.

Clary pasted on a friendly smile and held out her hand. "Hi there," she said, squatting so she was eye level with the young girl. "My name's Clary Fray."

Zoe swallowed nervously but after a quick glance at her father and Magnus for permission, she took Clary's hand gingerly. "Zoe," she said softly.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Zoe," Clary said. "You want some tea? We just brewed some. I've got some paper and pencils if you want to draw."

Zoe smiled shyly and, with one last glance at her father, allowed Clary to guide her over to the couch.

"Why's the Mundane still here?" Elias asked. "She shouldn't be involved. Mundanes don't belong in our world."

"And as I said before," Magnus said, waving Elias aside, "your information is fundamentally flawed in almost every respect. I let it slide last time. This is your last warning. I may not be so nice next time." He flashed a dangerous grin before turning to Adham, his smile softening to something more welcoming. "Feel free to grab some pancakes. You'll be safe here for the time being. I'll reinforce my shields but I'm asking you to add your shields to them as well. I'm going to send word to the other warlocks in Brooklyn. My Lair will be a safe haven until I can send you somewhere safer."

"Thank you," Adham said sincerely, clasping Magnus's hand with both of his own. "Thank you."

Magnus nodded and watched Adham follow after Clary and his daughter Zoe. He sighed and pressed two fingers to his temple. This whole affair was coming apart at the seams and it seemed he was the one responsible for holding it together. Dear lord what had he gotten himself into?


	4. Pandemonium

**A/N:** I haven't edited this yet. I'l do that tomorrw after I sleep on it.

 **Chapter summary:** In which Clary makes contact, Simon does some stalking, the Shadowhunters hunt for answers, Magnus is forced to make a tough decision, and Dot's luck runs out.

* * *

 **4: Pandemonium**

The sunlight spilled dimly through the windows lining the wall of Magnus's loft. It was a single golden beam reflected off one of the windows from across the alleyway directly onto her face that woke Clary up. She blinked open her eyes, only to squeeze them shut as soon as the bright light blinded her. Groaning, she shifted to her left so the light no longer shown on her face only to feel the dull edge of her sketchbook dig into her side.

Confused, she opened her eyes again and looked down at her lap. Her sketchbook was open to a page with a half drawn image of a little girl on it that she barely remembered drawing. Then again, she didn't remember falling asleep though. Sitting up, she freed her legs from their bent position, stretching out pleasurably.

A soft hum from next to her drew her attention and Clary glanced over to see little Zoe curled in a ball against the arm of the couch just a foot or so away from her. She smiled and tugged the blanket higher up the young warlock's body before setting her sketchbook aside and standing.

The other warlocks, Elias and Zoe's father Adham, were sitting in the two armchairs across the coffee table from the couch. They both looked like they had fallen asleep while talking. Elias had his cellphone clutched loosely in his hand like a charm. The sight of it reminded Clary of her own phone. She should probably check to see if Simon and Maureen got home okay last night. Clary had run out on them after all.

Yawning, Clary looked around the loft for her messenger bag, pausing when she heard shuffling coming from Magnus's bedroom. Sure enough, Magnus came out dressed in a fresh set of clothes. He wore a deep garnet silk shirt with subtle designs covering the material to give it the faintest texture. The front of the shirt was almost entirely unbuttoned revealing his toned chest and numerous necklaces, the charms clinking against each other rhythmically. Over his shirt, Magnus wore a black jacket with black pants, again with subtle designs decorating the fabric, that hugged his legs flatteringly. His shoes were silvery and reflected the early morning sunlight dully.

It was a testament to his distracted thoughts that Magnus didn't notice Clary's presence immediately. As it was, he only noticed her when she moved, flinching in surprise before relaxing. The move unnerved Clary.

"Hey," she said softly, not wanting to wake the sleeping warlocks. Magnus nodded absently before moving to the kitchen to go through the motions of brewing tea. "Are you alright?" Clary asked, following her uncle.

Magnus sighed and shook his head, setting a mug for himself and one for Clary on the island countertop. "Not particularly, no," he said, his voice soft and morose. "I've sent fire messages to all the warlocks I know of in my domain. I'm not sure if all of them got them, but I tried."

He snapped his fingers and the mugs were suddenly filled with steaming water, a tea bag tag hanging over the rims. Clary jolted at the change, eyes wide. - _smoky_ _blue...pulling-_ Clary shook the weird, intrusive thought away in favor of humming happily and reaching for her own mug. She took a sip and looked back at her uncle, concerned when he made no move for his own mug.

"Were you able to send a message to Dot?" Clary asked when the silence seemed to drag.

Magnus shook his head. "I don't know where she is, so no," he said, finally looping his ringed fingers around the mug's handle. "I can only send fire messages to someone if I know where they are. Alternatively, I could send one to a person's home but seeing as Dot's home isn't somewhere she'll go back to anytime soon..." He shrugged.

"I told my people to spread the word that I'll be at my club this afternoon for an hour if any of them wanted to take me up on my offer of sanctuary in my Lair," he continued after taking a careful sip. "They won't stay here forever, naturally, but they're welcome here until I can send them somewhere safer."

"I'm going with you," Clary said, her tone serious.

Magnus stared at her in mild surprise before smiling and shaking his head. "No," he said.

"Yes I am," Clary said.

"No, you aren't Clarissa," Magnus said, staring at his troublesome niece.

"Yes I am, Magnus Bane," she countered sharply. "You really think I'm going to let the one person who stayed with me through this out of my sight after everything that's happened?"

Magnus opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. Instead he bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head, his eyebrows lifting in surrender. "Fine," he said, waving the hand holding his mug. "But you aren't leaving my side and if I tell you to run, you'll do exactly as I say without question." His golden gaze was sharp and would not tolerate Clary attempting to wheedle her way out of this.

Clary pursed her lips in frustration but nodded. She'd gotten her way and Magnus's requirements weren't too ridiculous. Although, if he seriously thought she'd leave him behind for any reason, he was gravely mistaken. She'd let that happen once, she wasn't going to do that again. Ever. But she'd cross that bridge when and if she had to.

"Have you seen my phone?" she asked, changing the subject.

Magnus hummed. "No, but then again I don't usually make a habit of searching through someone else's personal affects," he said. "Even if said person is my niece," he added with a sly wink.

Clary rolled her eyes and walked away from her uncle towards the dark wood and red stained glass doors separating the master suite from the common area of the loft. Her bag still sat where she'd left it on Magnus's bed. Come to think of it, Magnus's bed was exactly as she'd left it. Did Magnus not sleep at all last night?

She glanced over her shoulder back at Magnus, blushing when she realized he'd been watching her. He lifted a perfectly plucked eyebrow at her and she gave him a flat, unimpressed stare. He had the grace to shrug but otherwise appeared unrepentant.

Shaking her head, Clary walked into Magnus's bedroom and pulled her bag towards her. She flipped the flap over so it lay on the comforter and began digging through her bag for her phone. Something crinkled and she paused, forehead creased in confusion. She pulled out the wrapped package and stared at it thoughtfully. She didn't recognize it and had no recollection of putting it in her bag in the first place.

Curious, she carefully ripped the paper off and almost cried again. In her hands was her mother's hand painted deck of Tarot cards. She shuffled through the cards, rubbing her thumb across the textured surfaces. She would find her mother and get to the bottom of what exactly was going on. Like hell she was just going to stand passively and react to everything. She was going to start acting on her own.

Taking a deep breath through her nose to center herself, she tenderly placed the Tarot deck on the bed beside her messenger bag and went back to feeling for her phone. She finally found it and pulled it out, turning it on. Or she tried to turn it on. After several tries, she groaned in frustration. The battery must have died.

She reached back into her bag and pulled out the charger and looked around for a plug. She'd let her phone charge then let Simon know she was alright. Unless Simon called Luke. She froze. What if Simon had contacted Luke? Dear lord above she hoped he hadn't.

She tried turning her phone on after a couple minutes of charging and was relieved when the familiar lock screen appeared. However, her relief became shock when her lock screen was subsequently filled with missed call notifications, voicemail notifications, and a seemingly endless list of text notifications. All from Simon.

She quickly silenced her phone when the almost constant dings began to grate on her nerves. She unlocked her phone and read through Simon's texts, her heart simultaneously plummeting with guilt and fluttering fondness as the texts became steadily more frantic. The voicemails had the same progression from worry to panic. The last text message informed her he would try again to contact her come morning. It also, threatened to contact Luke if she didn't respond.

Looking up to be sure she was still alone in Magnus's room, she shot a brief text to Simon.

 _/ Time: 8:32 AM  
To: Simon  
From: Clary  
I'm ok. Don't tell Luke. Try to call later. Don't worry./_

She set her phone down only for it to ding with an incoming text.

 _/ Time: 8:32 AM  
To: Clary  
From: Simon  
Omg r u ok! Where r u? Why'd u leave last night? I called n txted and everything./_

Clary huffed.

 _/ Time: 8:33 AM  
To: Simon  
From: Clary  
I'm fine. I'll tell you later. Can't talk now. I'll call later./_

"It'd be best if he didn't know where you are."

Clary all but jumped out of her skin, whirling around to see Magnus standing behind her. His neatly styled stubble facial air standing out against his skin in the dimly lit room. His golden eyes glittered eerily.

 _-golden eyes staring into her soul. Blue phantasmic fire swirling around her, in her head, pulling...something-_

Clary blinked. The image fading as quickly as it surfaced. Dismissing it for now, she asked, "Why not?"

"Well for starters, he can't get here," Magnus said, waving his hands in a half shrug. "Only someone with the Sight can see the door to my Lair and my shields will keep most of them out anyway."

"But Simon-"

"Is better off not knowing where you are," Magnus finished, cutting Clary off. "As long as he's not involved, he's safe. Or as safe as he can be." Magnus rolled his eyes.

"You just think he's annoying," Clary said, leveling her uncle with a disappointment stare.

"Obnoxious," Magnus corrected, holding up a finger. "Which I suppose is the same thing so yes. He's annoying." Smiling without any signs of guilt, Magnus turned back to leave his bedroom. He paused at the door and looked at Clary. "He is safer not knowing where you are. I wasn't lying about that."

Reluctantly, Clary nodded. As much as it hurt her, Simon was her best friend. She had to keep him safe. The last thing she wanted was him tangled up in all this insanity like she was.

* * *

"Nothing."

Amber eyes stared at the speaker in disbelief. "Nothing," Jace repeated dully.

Hodge shook his head. "Nothing." He turned back to the screen in defeat. "I can't find any attacks like that as far back as I looked," he said.

Jace gripped the back of Isabelle's chair and leaned against it as he tried to make sense of this. "And no records of any missing Shadowhunters?" he asked.

"Nope," Hodge replied. "None." She gestured helplessly. "Look, I'll leave you to it." He patted Jace's shoulder as he passed. "Sorry I couldn't be more help."

Jace nodded to Hodge, never taking his eyes off the screen in front of him. Nothing. They'd been working on this all night and most of the day and they still had nothing to go on.

"This sucks," he grumbled under his breath.

"You're telling me," Isabelle said, settling in her chair.

"We can't dwell on it," Alec said, leaning forward in his seat. "We'll just keep looking. Things have been quiet until now." He spread his hands. "Izzy," he said, drawing his sister's attention, "did Meliorn tell you anything?"

Isabelle Lightwood grinned and Alec fought the urge to roll his eyes. "He told me a lot of things," she teased, rolling his shoulder coyly.

"Stick to the important stuff, Izzy," Jace said, smirking at his _parabatai_ who looked ready to thunk his head on the table.

Isabelle chuckled. "Alright." Her smile drooped. "Something's happening. Meliorn didn't know too much because he doesn't usually rub shoulders with them but," she paused to meet her brother's bright blue eyes seriously, "something's got the warlocks scared. He said he heard through the grapevine that they were getting out of New York as fast as they could."

Jace's eyebrows furrowed. "Why would the warlocks be on the run?" he asked no one in particular.

Isabelle shrugged. "Meliorn didn't know," she admitted. "But he suspects they're being hunted."

"Hunted?" Alec said, sitting up in interest.

Isabelle nodded. "That's all he knows. He only knew that much because whatever happened has the Seelies unnerved."

Alec looked up at Jace who sighed noisily. "The Seelies aren't easily unnerved," the blonde Shadowhunter said, standing up straight. "If something's going on with the warlocks, then the High Warlock should be aware of it. He owns that Pandemonium place, right?" Isabelle nodded. "We can start looking there. We got lucky last time. No sense not trying again. I'd say it's worth looking into at least. Maybe it'll give us a break with this," he waved vaguely at the screen with their blank slate case.

Isabelle nodded thoughtfully. "It might." She smirked. "It would hold off my boredom and who knows. Maybe we'll find your mystery girl."

Jace grinned and flicked his jacket collar flirtatiously. This time, Alec didn't bother hiding his disdain. He rolled his eyes and stood. "I'll be right back," he called, ignoring his siblings' snickers as he went.

* * *

The moment Clary stepped through the Portal with Magnus, she froze. She recognized this place. This was where this whole madness began. Right in this VIP room, as a matter of fact. Right by that couch under that screen on that wall.

"Clary!"

Clary blinked when her vision was suddenly filled with Magnus's face. He must have been calling her. "Clary, are you alright?" he asked. His eyes studied her intently, flicking across her face with open concern.

"You own this place?" she demanded, pointing to the screen on the wall.

Magnus leaned back in bewilderment. "Yes, why?"

"This," Clary pointed to the floor by the couch, right where they were standing, "this is where they...those people killed those things. They turned to ash _right here!_ I killed that guy right..."

Magnus's eyes narrowed dangerously as he looked around him. "I didn't see you," he muttered to himself, ignoring the look she shot him. "There were Circle members here." He met Clary cautious gaze with his own. "I kicked them out. Circle members are never welcome here. They kill my guests."

"You mean like those people from before?" Clary demanded, her face pale in the odd lighting.

Magnus tilted his head to the side. "Possibly," he said. "Vampires turn to ash when they're killed, but then again so do demons." He moved to pulled the curtains separating the main dance floor from the VIP section aside. "If it was vampires, then the Circle was probably behind it. But if it was demons, then those Shadowhunters were probably from the Institute."

"The Institute?" Clary asked, stepping up to pull the other curtain back.

"The Shadowhunters' base," Magnus clarified. "There's one here in New York. I try to stay out of their business. Most Shadowhunters don't like Downworlders. We're," his lips twitched in a dark smile as a group of warlocks walked into his club, "beneath them." His voice dripped with disdain and his glittering eyes were narrowed with dislike.

"Beneath them?" Clary asked as the group of warlocks walked across the club floor towards Magnus.

"Let's just say racism is alive and well in the Shadow World," the High Warlock said in a low voice. "This way," he called loudly. "My Lair's on the other side of the Portal. Once you're there, add your shields to mine. It'll help bolster its defenses."

The female warlock leading the group nodded and shed her glamour. The sight was unexpected and Clary fought hard not to stare. The woman had skin that was bright, fire engine red. She led the way through the Portal followed by her posse of four warlocks.

Clary leaned close to Magnus to whisper, "Is that her warlock mark?"

Magnus nodded. "We'll wait here for an hour then leave. I don't like staying here any longer than that."

"What about Dot?" Clary asked.

Magnus glanced at her, quickly looking away. Clary swallowed. Magnus would wait for an hour but no longer. If Dot didn't come, she was on her own. Clary sent up a quick prayer that her friend made it in time.

* * *

Dot leaned against a dumpster, struggling to breathe around the stitch in her side. Every breath hurt. She barely had enough magic to do anything besides maybe send a couple fire messages. Thankfully, she wasn't too much farther from Pandemonium. It was only 1:48 in the afternoon so Pandemonium wouldn't open for long while yet. But hopefully Dot could hide out there until it did in the evening. She needed to talk to Magnus.

She had to trust someone. If not Luke, then Magnus was her only other option. She prayed she could get to him before she was caught. The last thing she needed was another turn of bad luck.

* * *

Simon checked his phone again then looked up at the building in front of him incredulously. "Really?" he muttered in mild disbelief.

Honestly, this was all too weird. She was still here? Why would Clary leave this place like a bat out of hell only to come back when the place was closed? He scratched his head and checked his phone yet again. Sure enough, Clary's symbol in the Find Friends app stood big and bold practically next to his own right here. He looked back up at the unlit sign above the entrance of the building.

"It's okay Simon," he muttered. "She's probably fine. Just, you know, creeping. Yeah, definitely just creeping. She's an artist. I mean, artists get inspired by all sorts of stuff, right? Creeping isn't all that unusual." He gulped. "I am definitely going to regret this."

Tucking his phone in his pocket, he forced himself to walk towards the closed club Pandemonium, unaware of the three people in black who had walked briskly past him.

* * *

Magnus pulled out a small but ornate pocket watch, tapping his foot as the minute hand inched its way closer to two o'clock. He and Clary had been here much too long. He was the High Warlock of Brooklyn and thus it was his duty to protect his people. But he wasn't stupid. He knew the unusual influx of warlocks in one place would attract the Institute's attention. He estimated it would take the Shadowhunters an hour before anything was done to investigate. That deadline was fast approaching.

It just wasn't fast enough to suit him.

Clary was helping as best she could, hustling the arriving warlocks through the Portal. He had counted about a dozen total so far. He hoped any other warlock had been able to get out on his or her own. Clary must have felt his gaze because she looked up and unerringly caught his gaze with her own. He could read the question in her eyes and felt horrible when he shook his head and watched the despair and worry fill her eyes. The hour was almost up and there was still no sign of Dorothea.

The doors to the club banged open and Magnus looked up expecting another group of stragglers, or Dorothea. Instead, he saw a male warlock racing across the empty floor of his club. The warlock cast a terrified glance over his shoulder and Magnus tensed, his senses heightening. He focused on the shadows behind the straggler and saw the unmistakable black clothes and tattooed bodies of Shadowhunters. He did not stop to question whether they were from the Institute or the Circle. He snapped his watch shut and made his way hurriedly to Clary.

"Time to go!" he cried.

Clary's eyes bulged in shock when she saw her uncle racing towards her as fast as he could. He cast a look over his shoulder and she followed his gaze only to stiffen.

"It's them," she breathed.

"Go through the Portal!" Magnus ordered, stepping between his niece and the Shadowhunters.

The command jolted Clary from her shock. She shook her head, eyes narrowed in determination. "Like hell," she snapped. "We have to wait for Dot."

"Dot's not coming Clary. Go," Magnus said, activating his magic, ready to defend himself and his people should the Shadowhunters attack. "I'll be right behind you."

Clary's cheeked flushed with fury. She snagged her uncle's coat sleeve and yanked him back to her startling him. "The last time someone told me that, I never saw her again," she snarled. "I am not. Leaving. You."

Magnus swallowed, feeling a mixture of affection and frustration for his stubborn niece.

"Magnus!" one of the Shadowhunters shouted.

Magnus took up a position between Clary and the Shadowhunters. They were running towards them now. With their enhanced speed, they would clear the open floor in seconds. Luckily, the terrified warlock bolted past Magnus and through the Portal just in time. Magnus spun and pushed himself and Clary through the purple veil right behind the straggler. The instant he felt fresh air on his face, he banished the Portal. The next thing he felt was the cold, hard wood as he thudded to the floor.

He scrambled up, pulling a breathless Clary up after him, straightening his coat self-consciously. He felt the eyes of the many warlock refugees in his Lair staring at them. There was no way he was going to allow himself to appear anything less than magnificent in front of them. He nodded the Elias who was helping ease the gasping warlock who had arrived tailed by the Shadowhunters down onto the couch.

Then he placed a hand on his niece's shoulder, only to find himself yanked into a hug. He stiffened, caught by surprise.

"Don't ever try to send me away without you, Magnus," she commanded. Her voice held the edge of anger but her fingers gripped the back of his coat with the desperation brought on by fear and love. Magnus sighed and hugged her gently. He didn't answer aloud, but he didn't have to.

"Those people," Clary whispered, just soft enough for him to hear, "they were ones who killed those things in your club. It was them."

Magnus narrowed his eyes. The Shadowhunters had been to far away to see if there was a Circle rune on their necks or not. If so, then he was screwed. If not, then he was screwed with a chance of not being screwed. He gave a 70/30 percent chance at best, 90/10 percent chance at worst. Either way he was screwed. It was really just a matter of how badly.

* * *

Dot hunched down behind the dumpster. The Mundane Simon may have missed the Shadowhunters walking past him but she hadn't. She briefly debated calling for Simon but that would have caught the Shadowhunters' attention. So instead, she limped down to the sidewalk away from Pandemonium. She would come back later when the Shadowhunters were gone and Magnus opened up for business. Then she'd catch him and beg him for sanctuary and help finding Clary.

She was too tired to hear them coming. Too drained to fight back and they grabbed her from behind and dragged her in a dark corner of the sidewalk. Too weak to scream for help. The last thing she saw was the sun. It would be the last time she ever saw it again.


	5. How Mundane

**A/N:** I wrote this entire thing in one sitting. I intended it to be just one scene before moving to Clary and Magnus but Alec demanded a front seat. Who am I to turn that down? Enjoy~

 **Chapter summary:** In which the Shadowhunters follow a Mundane who knows things he shouldn't and Alec finds a new fluffy friend and photograph.

* * *

 **5: How Mundane**

The moment Jace saw the girl from the previous night, he activated his speed rune and raced across the dance floor of Pandemonium after the warlocks. Why would a Shadowhunter be with Downworlders?

"Magnus!" he called sharply. The High Warlock of Brooklyn gave him a cursory look, taking a protective stance in front of the girl. Jace couldn't hear what was said, but the next thing he knew, the warlock running in front of them vanished through the open Portal. The next moment, Magnus and the girl vanished as well.

"Mag- _Damn it!_ " he cursed, pulling up short when the Portal dissipated.

"Damn it!"

Blinking, Jace turned around searching for the unknown voice curiously. Standing next to Isabelle and oblivious to the Shadowhunters' presence was a Mundane staring around himself awkwardly.

"So glad no one heard that," the Mundane mumbled, rubbing his neck self-consciously. His gaze dropped back to his phone and his face scrunched up in frustration. "Something's up with this app," he muttered, fiddling with his phone. "That is the second time this has happened."

"Jace," Alec called, striding up to his _parabatai_ , ignoring the incessant mumbling flowing at a near constant rate from the Mundane. "We need to report this to the Clave," he said. "The warlocks ran from us and Magnus was ready to fight."

"Alec's right," Isabelle interjected. "Something's going on here and I don't like it. We need to talk to Magnus."

Alec huffed a sighed earning him a semi-annoyed look from his sister. But Jace shook his head. "She's right Alec," he said in resignation.

"I know," the archer of their little group said. "I just...this whole thing is wrong. First a Shadowhunter no one knows about appears out of nowhere, demons attacking Mundanes-"

"Were they Mundanes though?" Isabelle asked. Her brothers stared at her incredulously. She shifted her feet so her weight rested comfortably on her left side. "Think about it. I went back there this morning and there was no police tape, no evidence of anything. The place was glamoured. Only a warlock could do that."

"Why would a warlock glamour a building like that?" Jace asked. He crossed his arms in frustration. "This is just getting more and more confusing. We need answers."

"I should never have let her wander off alone," the Mundane kept talking, walking dejectedly through the building back to the entrance. His voice carrying through the huge, open space. "She must've been drugged. I am going to die. Luke is going to kill me. Ms. Fray is going to kill me. _I_ am going to kill me."

Jace groaned and ran a hand down his face in annoyance. "Mundanes," he muttered under his breath.

Alec snickered and Isabelle smirked as they made their way out of the building right behind the still mumbling Mundane. Honestly, did he ever shut up? Once back out in the sunlight, Isabelle strode confidently ahead of her brothers towards the sidewalk where Mundanes mingled, oblivious to her presence. She turned left and halted, her smile falling from her face.

She felt her brothers catch up to her and fall still next to her. She knew what they were staring at because it was the same thing she was staring at. The rune for angelic power was boldly spray painted in deep blue, purple, and black across the broad side of an otherwise plain yellow van.

"Izzy?" Jace asked cautiously.

"Yeah," she answered, nodding slightly. "I'm seeing it too."

"Who-?" Alec was interrupted by the continuous muttering of the Mundane from earlier strolling past him right towards the van. He and his siblings watched the Mundane walk up to the van, pull out a set of keys, unlock the driver's side door and hop in.

"Why would a Mundane have the angelic power rune on his car?" Alec asked anyone in particular.

Jace flashed him a grin and Alec grimaced. He knew that look. It was the same one that precluded any number of incidents Alec strove hard to keep from the Clave's ears. Jace's misadventures were notorious throughout the New York Institute. Everyone knew about them but no one dared tell the Clave. Jace was their golden boy. He could do no wrong, even when he did.

It was amusing, when it didn't involve paperwork. Then it was only amusing _until_ the paperwork. Judging by this particular look, Alec knew in his gut that he would have a stack of paperwork to blow through after this. Rolling his eyes in acceptance of his fate, Alec activated his speed rune and led the way as he and his siblings followed the van through New York City's infamous traffic.

It was Isabelle who leapt gracefully up onto the van's roof and held on for the ride. Her ruby lips stretched wide in a smile that shamed the one she wore when Alec caught her flirting with Meliorn. It was infectious and Alec had to admit her idea had merit. Activating his silent rune, he also leapt up to the van's roof. Jace elected to keep running.

Alec rolled his eyes at his _parabatai_. Jace enjoyed physical exertion too much to be considered healthy. Jace's sun kissed skin gleamed with the faintest hint of sweat as he ran. His amber eyes sparkled with excitement. He was taking the van's speed as a challenge. Jace loved challenges. He took them personally.

The blonde Shadowhunter sped up so he kept pace beside the van, nimbly dodging through traffic, leaping over the occasional car that blocked his path. His smile made his face glow like the sun. It warmed Alec's heart.

Alec stiffened, the frigid claw of fear clutching at his heart. He deliberately turned away so Jace was no longer in his line of sight. He felt the remains of the blush he desperately wanted to go away still lingering on his cheeks. He couldn't let himself slip like that again. He shook his head to clear it and focused instead on the van's destination.

He realized he recognized this street. It was the same one as the building the demons and rogue Shadowhunters had supposedly attacked. Judging from Isabelle's move to scoot up next to him on the van's roof, she recognized it too. She glanced at Alec who met her gaze. Both of their smiles were gone now.

"Hey!" Jace said, slowing down to stand by the now stopped van. "Isn't this-" he began, pointing at the glamoured building.

He never got to finish because the van door swung open and he was forced to dodge or get hit. The Mundane stepped out and walked confidently up to the storefront and tried the door. The glamour hid the broken window from his view but the glamoured door was locked with a "Closed" sign hanging in the window.

"What in the world?" the Mundane said, stepping back and scratching his head. He stared up at the glamoured building, seeing nothing amiss. "Dot always opens early."

He pulled out his phone and checked it again. Whatever he found or did not find made him huff and stamp his foot in exasperation. "Clary, where on God's green earth are you?"

"Clary?" Isabelle repeated, hopping down off the van to stand beside the Mundane.

She peered at his phone screen curiously, careful to avoid touching him. They may be invisible, but that didn't mean they couldn't be felt. Her eyebrow lifted when she recognized the Find Friends app. She had used it numerous times on Alec. How else was she suppose to get the dirt on her by-the-book big brother?

She flinched back when the Mundane closed the app and pressed the screen activating a call. Before she could catch the caller ID screen, the phone was pressed against the Mundane boy's ear.

"Mr. Luke!" the Mundane said. His shoulders slumped in clear relief. "Hey, hi, yeah it's me. No, no I'm fine. It's just..." He licked his lips and lifted his eyes back to the glamoured building. "Dot's store is closed and I can't find Clary. I mean I texted her but-" The Mundane stopped mid-sentence and clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide in shock. "I-I mean I texted her and called her and stuff b-but um..." She looked away from the phone and breathed a curse. "No, no, no response. Nothing. Um."

He bit his thumbnail breaking out in a nervous sweat. He stumbled quickly back towards his van oblivious to the two male Shadowhunters parting so he could approach unimpeded. "Look, uh," he stuttered, "I just want to know if she's alright. She left last night and never texted me or nothing. Is she okay?" he asked, pausing in the act of opening the van door.

He licked his lips as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line. He turned back and stared at the glamoured building, squinting at it suspiciously. "Yeah. Yeah, I will. Yeah, okay. Thanks, you too. Bye."

He hung up and raised his hands in the air in an overdramatic gesture of surrender. His face stuck in a clear "I'm screwed" expression. "Oh god," he said, starting to pace along the sidewalk.

Jace and Alec stumbled out of his way to avoid getting walking into by the distraught Mundane who insisted on pacing in an unpredictable beeline. "Okay, okay," the Mundane said. "Calm down Simon. Now is not the time to freak out."

So the Mundane's name was Simon. That was something.

"Clary tells you not to tell Luke and what do you do, call Luke." He face scrunched up in irritation. He groaned and spun to thunk his head against the side of the van.

Jace glanced at Alec, clearly questioning the Mundane's sanity. Alec shook his head and shrugged. Isabelle snorted at her brothers' antics in a very ladylike manner.

"I am so dead," Simon continued. "Clary's gonna kill me. I'm dead. Damn it, I am so dead." He heaved a sigh, shoulders drooping in defeat.

Alec chose that moment to step forward to check on the Mundane and reeled back narrowly avoiding having his nose broken when, without warning, Simon bolted ramrod straight. "Magnus!" he said loudly, a hopeful smile on his face.

Alec staggered back bumping into Jace. The Shadowhunters met eyes seriously. Magnus. Again, the High Warlock's name came up. By the angel, how the hell did a Mundane know about the infamous High Warlock of Brooklyn? What the holy hell was going on here?

"Magnus will know," Simon continued. He dug out his wallet and plopped a few coins into the meter and ran down the sidewalk, the Shadowhunters hot on his heels.

Simon dodged around the few people on this relatively quiet neighborhood street and around the block, skidding to a stop in front of a small, hole-in-the-wall place. The words _Candles and Charms_ were written in elegant white script on the window above the class door. There was no glamour here.

The glass was broken and police tape crisscrossed the entrance barring the public from entering. A police car was parked in front of the shop and a uniformed policeman stood guard by the steps. Simon's mouth dropped open and even the Shadowhunters were surprised by the display.

"Um," Simon said, catching the policeman's attention with a friendly wave and smile. "Hi. I'm Simon," he said, fiddling with his hands nervously. The policeman stared at him mildly. Simon cleared his throat and forced himself to continue. "What happened here?"

The policeman shook his head. "I'm sorry kid," he said. "Place is closed. There was break in last night."

"A break in?" Simon gasped, staring at the broken glass door in horror. "But... But I know the guy who lives here. And works here, actually," he added. "Magnus. Magnus Bane. Is he okay? Is he here? Can I talk to him?"

"You know the owner?" the policeman asked, perking up in sudden interest.

"Uh, yeah," Simon said, scratching his head. "I know him. He's Cl- a friend of mine's uncle. We call him Uncle Magnus."

"Uncle Magnus?" Jace parroted in disbelief. "There's no way."

The policeman's face became sympathetic and Simon gulped. "I'm sorry buddy," the policeman said. "The owner's been missing. Hasn't been seen since last night." His eyes sharpened. "Do you have any information that could help us find him?"

"Oh god," Simon breathed. "Oh god. Oh god. This is..." He ran his fingers through his hair.

"Sir," the policeman asked, eyeing the young man suspiciously. "Sir are you alright?"

"No," Simon said curtly. "No, nope. Nope, not alright." He pulled out his phone and began fiddling with it. He raised his face to the sky and shrugged helplessly. "Everything is going to hell. I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

"Sir, we're treating this as a possible missing persons case," the policeman said, stepping closer to Simon who flinched. "If you have any information regarding the owner Magnus Bane's location, I need you to tell me." Simon laughed uncomfortably and began backing away from the approaching officer. "Look, you're not in trouble. I just want to know if you've seen him."

Simon gestured and gave a breathless laugh. "I'm going insane," he said. "And I said that out loud. Oh god, um, look I haven't seen him. I actually came here hoping he could help me find someone. So, uh, it's been nice but, uh, I kind of have to go so..." He shrugged with a smile. "You know. No hard feelings?"

"Izzy," Alec said, stepping around the Mundane Simon, "keep an eye on him. Jace, go with her."

"I can take care of myself," Isabelle said giving Alec a faintly amused look.

"I know, I just..." Alec watched Simon backing away. "Just make sure he stays out of trouble."

"So I'm a babysitter," Isabelle said with a flat expression, all amusement gone.

"No. I need to know if he goes anywhere, and if he contacts any Downworlders." Alec shifted his quiver higher on his shoulder. "Jace is right. Magnus is involved and this girl-"

"Clary," Jace said.

"Clary," Alec said giving Jace an odd look, "is in the middle of this mess. We need to figure out what's going on. Besides," he added smugly, "I trust you to keep Jace in line."

"Hey!" Jace exclaimed, staring at his _parabatai_ affronted.

Isabelle however snickered and snatched Jace's collar, dragging him along behind her. "Come on, big boy," she teased. "Let's go babysit the Mundane."

Alec bit back a snort as he slipped between the yellow police tape barring the broken glass door and looked around. Just to be on the safe side, he pulled an arrow from his quiver and knocked it on his bowstring, holding it loose but ready. The store was small in width but deep. Bookshelves filled with old and new books lined the left wall. Bookends made of large chunks of agate, amethyst, and quartz broke the monotony of books. Here and there a small figurine from various Mundane cultures peaked out from between two books.

On the right wall were wooden shelves fixed to the wall in a floating style. Candles, candle holders, and incense burners with cases of incense sat on the shelves in no particular order. The smell of the incense wasn't heavy but it wasn't light either. Wind chimes of many sizes, shapes, and styles hung from the ceiling. A counter sat at the far end of the room with an old fashioned register on it as well as a small basket of trinkets, worry stones, and knick knacks.

Overall, it was an eclectic shop and was nothing like what Alec expected to find at a place owned by the infamous Magnus Bane. It just felt so stereotypical and odd. Yet there was an air of welcome in the atmosphere. Or there would have been is several chimes weren't lying on the floor, the strings hopelessly tangled together. A fat Buddha lay shattered in the corner near six books that were literally ripped apart. Three shelves hung from the wall in such a way that Alec knew they would fall from the slightest breeze. The place was absolutely trashed. Whatever had happened here seemed disturbingly similar to the Mundane home they'd seen last night.

Lifting his gaze, he notice a heavy purple curtain hanging behind the counter. It was parted in the center ever so slightly implying there was a room hidden behind it. Curious, Alec made his way around the counter, slipping between the opening in the curtain and saw the remains of a low table smashed against the back wall. A pile of Tarot cards were tossed haphazardly across the shag rug floor. A small chandelier in a Middle Eastern style dangled from the ceiling broken beyond repair. Alec ducked around the light and stepped towards the open door on the right wall at the very back.

A dimly lit stairwell led up to what Alec assumed was the owner's living quarters. He suspected this wasn't Magnus's true Lair. He would've most likely been repelled by shields if it was. Not only that, but he highly doubted Mundane police would be allowed anywhere near the High Warlock's true abode. This must have been Magnus's Mundane cover's home.

The door at the top of the step was shredded by what Alec recognized as seraph blades. A cold stone settled in the pit of his stomach. Seraph blades could only be wielded by Shadowhunters. That meant Shadowhunters had done this. The Clave would never condone an act of violence like this, even against a Downworlder. Especially not against someone as powerful and influential as Magnus Bane. Magnus was old and powerful. Hodge once said he'd never met a more powerful warlock in his entire life. Coming from Hodge, those words were meant to be taken seriously; they were a warning as well as an observation.

Yet the evidence said Magnus had not only been targeted, he had fled at the mere sight of Shadowhunters. He never even questioned why Alec and his siblings had shown up at Pandemonium in the first place. He had simply grabbed the girl and fled through the Portal. If Magnus Bane was intimidated by something it meant the Shadowhunters had to be wary.

But then again, it was Shadowhunters who did this. So the real question was, which Shadowhunters did this? More importantly, why did they do this? It had to do with that girl Jace was convinced was a Shadowhunter. Clary, her name was.

He cast his eyes around the small apartment beyond the shredded remains of the door and was again met by what he felt was a stereotypical abode of an eccentric mystical enthusiast. It felt warm and comfortable yet distant; lived in but not home. This was a temporary place to visit, not a place to call a permamnent home.

He about jumped out of his skin when he heard the sharp sound of something clattering to the ground behind him. He spun, bow drawn and arrow aimed at the window. However, instead of an enemy, he was met by a window facing a fire escape cracked open and a tiny gray and white tabby standing on a low set of cubbies next to a hammock half strung up to the ceiling. Alec checked again to be sure he was alone, besides the cat, and relaxed.

He watched the tabby as the tiny creature, it must still be a kitten, struggled to climb up onto the hammock. The half of the hammockclosest to the window had been ripped from the ceiling and now lay sadly on the floor. Several pillows and two blankets dripped from the hammock making a mess on the floor. The kitten meowed loudly as if calling for someone. It was too cute and Alec caught himself smiling.

He put away his bow and arrow and knelt down, holding a hand out to the cat. He smiled, trying his best not to appear intimidating. "Hey there," he said gently. "It's okay. It's okay. Come here. Yeah, see? I won't hurt you. Come here."

The small cat sniffed his fingers suspiciously before pressing its head against them begging to be scratched. Alec's smile broadened as he scratched the cat on its head and under its jaw. Slowly, he encouraged the cat to come close enough for him to pick it up. The cat was so small it fit in his jacket pocket, its tiny head poking out adorably. It meowed again and ducked into Alec's pocket.

Clearing his throat, Alec stood and got ready to leave. He doubted anything here was close enough to the warlock to use for a successful tracking spell. Or that's what he thought until he caught sight of what looked like the corner of a photograph poking out from underneath one of the blankets on by the hammock. He crouched down and tugged the picture out and knew he'd found what they were looking for.

The photo was obvious a few years old because the red haired girl in the photo was younger than she looked when Alec saw her in person though not by much. She had cake smudged on her face and was clearly in the middle of laughing when the picture had been taken. Her eyes were a soft green-brown like wet moss and in the light in the photo her hair was so red as to almost be orange. She was holding up a hand as if to tell the photographer to stop looking at her.

The photographer was a young man of Asian decent with dark brown eyes like fresh coffee. A flattering dash of kohl lined his eyes and his raven hair was gelled up elegantly. Streaks of blue and purple stood out when the light hit his hair just right. He also had a smile on his face. It looked like he had was trying hard not to laugh at the poor girl's plight right behind him and failing miserably. His arm was just visible in the corner of the photograph indicating he was taking a selfie with the girl.

It may not have been in the nicer clothes he wore today and his face was not serious or brooding like he often appeared in the photos the Institute had of him, but it was still him. Even with the odd context, Alec would recognize the High Warlock of Brooklyn anywhere. So the High Warlock of Brooklyn not only knew the unknown Shadowhunter girl, Clary, but they were on good terms. Even friends if the picture was anything to go by. This brought up yet another boatload of questions and only answered a mere handful. Alec had no desire to open this particular can of worms but it seemed he had no other choice.

He tucked the photograph in his other jacket pocket, the one not holding a fluffy bundle of adorable kitten, and made his way out of Magnus's Mundane home. He felt somewhat successful. He had proof Shadowhunters were involved in this mess and had found something he could potentially use to track Magnus Bane. A faint meow floated up to him from his pocket and his lips twitched up without his conscious thought. He also had a cute fluffy friend to keep him company on this little misadventure. Hopefully Church, the Institute's cat, wouldn't mind the addition too much.

Rolling his shoulders as he stepped outside, careful to avoid touching the policeman or disturbing the yellow crime scene tape, Alec stepped out onto the sidewalk and strode back towards the place the Mundane Simon had parked his van. He would call Isabelle and Jace and see if they could meet up before heading back to the Institute to regroup. They needed to talk to Magnus Bane.

If a warlock of Magnus's caliber went into hiding, it would be a pain getting him to come out. They could track him, but they wouldn't be able to break through his shields to get into his Lair. They would need to lure him out from his protections and discuss this on neutral ground. But they would need something the warlock valued enough to draw him out and that could prove to be difficult. They couldn't give up the photograph when they needed it to track Magnus down in case he ran for it. Maybe Hodge would have a few ideas.


	6. Missing Persons and Missing Cats

**A/N:** This is a lot longer than I intended it to be but I'm happy with it. I'll edit it either later tonight or tomorrow morning.

 **Chapter summary:** In which Luke is out of the loop, Clary learns something new, and Magnus is missing a certain, fluffy someone.

* * *

 **6: Missing Persons and Missing Cats**

The moment Simon hung up the phone, Luke jumped up from his desk, grabbed his jacket, badge, and gun, and hurried towards the door. Alaric noticed his friend's sudden action and scrambled to follow.

"What's going on?" Alaric demanded. "Where're you going?"

"Simon called," he said. "He was looking for Clary. Said she was with him last night before she disappeared."

"Where?" Alaric asked, grabbing his own gun and badge after shrugging on his jacket.

"Don't know. I triangulated his call and he was close to Jocelyn's place." Luke waited for his partner to join him before walking down the hallway. "I'm going to ask around, see if I can find out where Clary was last night. That'll give us a place to start."

Alaric nodded. "Sounds good."

"Garroway!"

Luke paused and turned around, excuse ready in case his captain asked where he was going. The blonde woman caught up with them quickly, her stern expression easing when she noticed Alaric next to Luke.

"Captain Vargas," he said, nodding to his superior respectfully.

"Good, your both going," she said, nodding in return.

"Going, uh, yes," Luke said, confused.

"I guess you got the word," she said.

Luke nodded, attempting to appear confident. "Um, not the details, no. But yes ma'am. Why? Is there something I missed?"

Captain Vargas stepped aside to let a female officer slip by before continuing. "We got a clearer description of the possible witness," she said. "Granted, this isn't our typical beat but considering the circumstances, we're working together on this."

"Of course," Luke said, still not sure what his captain was getting at.

Alaric gestured towards the hallway. "Care to talk and walk?" he suggested.

"Oh, yes, of course," the captain said. She took the lead, the two confused werewolf policemen trailing behind her and listening closely. "We still don't have much information on the missing person except that he lived close to Ms. Fray's place," Susanna Vargas said. "I know you're familiar with that block and I was hoping you could at least give this a once over, see if you recognized him."

"Sure," Luke said. "Sure. I can do that. I never got a name or picture though. Just heard someone went missing and maybe I could fill in a few blanks."

The captain stepping into the lobby and turned handing her detectives a folder she'd been holding. "Everything he have so far is in there," she said. "We just heard about it a couple hours ago. Someone called in a possible break-in. There were signs of a struggle and the place is trashed. Forensics should be there now if you want to go join them."

Luke didn't answer. Alaric leaned over to see what had captured his friend's rapt attention and was stunned when he recognized the man in the photograph. It was slightly blurry as if taken in a hurry and the lighting was a bit too bright. It wasn't how Alaric remembered seeing the man, granted he didn't often see photos of people hitting piñatas, but the man's face was unmistakable.

"Detectives?" Captain Vargas said, startling the two men. She lifted an eyebrow when they jumped. "Is there something I'm missing? Do you know him?"

"I, uh, yeah," Luke replied, staring at the photograph. "Magnus Bane. He owns a little shop right around the corner from... I, uh, I was there when this picture was taken actually. He's missing?"

Captain Susanna Vargas studied her two detectives closely. "You were there? Do you know who took this?" she asked crossing her arms seriously, all business.

"Yeah. A friend of Clary's, Simon Lewis," Luke answered promptly. "I could ask him if he knows anything if you want," he offered.

The woman thought for a moment. "You're technically homicide detectives and you're both already working the 'Demon Killings,'" she said, rolling her eyes at the infuriating name the media had given the string of serial killings. "You already have a lot on your plates as it is. I'll keep you updated but right now we don't want to step on too many toes."

"Right, right, makes sense," Luke said, waving away his captain's words. "I just want to be kept in the loop."

"Who's the investigator assigned to the case?" Alaric asked taking the folder from Luke's hands to read through the information.

"Detective Beckett," Vargas replied.

Both Luke and Alaric were surprised. "Isn't she homicide too?" Alaric asked.

The captain shrugged. "I don't handle these things. It's above my pay grade. Detective Beckett should be at the scene soon. I can call her and tell her you're on your way."

"Ah, no, don't worry about it," Luke said quickly. "I have a couple things to take care of first. I don't want to be under foot. Tell her if she needs anything, I'm here to help."

"Sure thing," Susanna said stepping aside so her men could be on their way. "Oh, by the way, how's Jocelyn?" she called. Luke flashed her a tolerant smile and she knew very well what he meant. "I'm tellin' you," she said, waving a finger at him. "You already act like a father. It's high time you made the position official." She wagged her eyebrows suggestively and he laughed.

As she watched her detectives walk out the door of the precinct she couldn't fight the feeling that there was something she was missing. She just couldn't figure out what it was.

* * *

Magnus's loft was filled with warlocks so much so that Magnus's bedroom was quite literally the only escape from the crowd. Well, his bedroom and his en suite, that is. After the events over the past night, Clary was beginning to feel the itch to wash. She hadn't showered in going on two days. Running in the rain did not count. All that succeeded in doing was making her smell faintly of pond water. Her hair was beginning to feel greasy and she just generally felt dirty and uncomfortable. The fact a shower would help ease her nerves and give her an escape from the crowd was a contributing factor as well, of course.

Magnus must have sensed her discomfort because he had gently showed her to his large personal bathroom and gave her permission to take as long as she needed. True to his word, he had left her alone and never bothered her. It took a fierce inner war to resist the urge to take a bath which would have felt amazing. But even though Magnus implied she could take her time, she did not want her uncle out of her sight any longer than necessary. A shower is was then.

The hot spray stung her skin almost painfully as she scrubbed herself raw. She could still feel the ashes of that creature she had killed, vampire, demon, whatever it was on her. She needed to wash the sensation down the drain with the dirt. She washed her hair next, scrubbing her scalp with her nails. Even if she was only imagining the ashes on her, she wanted it to go away.

When she finally stepped out, her skin was sunburnt red from the heat and her vigorous scrubbing. She wrapped a towel around her body and found Magnus's hair dryer and brush. She thanked all that was holy that Magnus cared so much about his appearance. It made taking care of her own appearance so much easier. It was one less hassle to worry about. When she was finally satisfied, she put away the brush and hair dryer and reached for her clothes.

Except her clothes weren't there. Her brow furrowed in mild confusion. She could swear she left her dirty clothes there by the bathtub ledge. She distinctly remembered undressing in front of the mirror. Maybe Magnus had taken them while she was in the shower to clean them for her.

She cautiously cracked the bedroom door open and poked her head out to be sure she was alone before stepping out. She was still in her towel after all. There had to be some propriety. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out onto the cold wooden floor and walked towards the bed. Sure enough, there was a fresh set of clothes there but it wasn't the outfit she'd worn earlier. In fact, she didn't recognize these clothes at all, although a cursory look showed her they were indeed her size. It wasn't the first time she was relieved Magnus knew her sizes and had an appreciation for personal style.

There was a brand new pair of skinny jeans laying on the deep red comforter. Several rips lined the front of the legs in a casual chic style that would flatter her with flashes of skin. The shirt was really just a glorified black sports bra attached to a long sleeved striped shirt. The stripe pattern alternated between black faux velvet and white shear material which again gave flashes of skin. It was flirty, fun, casual, and fit Clary's style perfectly. A pair of bejeweled trainers that were suitably feminine sat on the floor by Magnus's bed.

Overall, it was a nice outfit. But where in the world had Magnus gotten it?

As if on queue, the doors connecting Magnus's bedroom to the common area opened. Magnus slipped through the opening, closely the doors securely behind him. Stuffed under his arm was a large gray book with an elegant bookmark hanging out from between the pages. Had Clary not known better, she would have assumed the book was nothing but a very comprehensive dictionary. However, the way Magnus carried it as well as its aged appearance made her think otherwise.

"Oh good, you're out," Magnus said, walking up to the bed and setting the book gently on the comforter by her clothes. "Go ahead and get dressed while I look for the rune."

"Rune?" Clary asked, waiting until Magnus sat on the bed with his back to her before allowing the towel to drop to the floor. She reached for the underwear under the pants first then tugged the jeans up her legs. "What rune? What book is that?" she asked, hopping and wiggling to be sure the jeans fit comfortably snug at her hips.

"The Gray Book," Magnus replied, flipping the pages swiftly but reverently. The way he treated the pages gave her the impression they were impossibly delicate. "It's a book of runes Shadowhunters use to advance their abilities. If you're right and those Shadowhunters who chased us through the Portal were the same ones you saw fighting in my club last night, then that means it's possible they're tracking you." He licked his lips in concentration as he continued flipping through the many pages, brushing aside a few papers slipped between them.

"And this rune you're looking for can stop that," Clary said, pulling on the shirt and securing the bra in the process so it rested comfortably over her breasts.

Magnus nodded, never looking away from the book. "You'll need to draw the rune somewhere on your body using a stele," he said. He paused then and turned to her. "Do you have a stele?"

Clary flipped her hair out from underneath her shirt, tugging the bottom seam lower. "Um, I think so," she said, trying to remember. "Mom gave me something she called a stele for my birthday."

"She would know," Magnus said. "Do you have it with you?"

Clary nodded. "I think so," she said. "I put it in my bag and I don't remember taking it out."

Magnus snapped his fingers, blue sparks flashing briefly, and her bag of belongings materialized on the bed where her new clothes had been. "Get it," he said, looking back down at the book. "You'll need it from now on."

Her forehead creased in confusion but Clary did as her uncle told her. She plopped down on the bed next to Magnus, opened the flap of her messenger bag, and began riffling through it. She pulled out her old sketchbook, a well used box of pencils, a couple malleable erasers, and finally the smooth mahogany box her mom had put the stele in. She pulled it out, ignoring the last item in her bag, and set it on her knee. She carefully opened it and took out the small, slender wand-like object. It was a single piece of pewter with raised symbols elegantly carved on it. A smoky white quartz crystal was nestled securely at one end, the crystal sides narrowing to a point.

Magnus glanced up from his search to the stele and nodded. "Good. One second." He flipped through two more pages before humming in relief. He placed the open book on the bed between them so the black symbols faced Clary. "This rune here," he said, pointing to the black symbol on the page to Clary's left, "hides you from Shadowhunter tracking." He pulled his legs up onto the bed so he sat crosslegged. "I need you to draw this symbol with your stele."

"How?" Clary asked, turning the stele over in her hands. "There's no ink."

Magnus shook his head and gently brushed his fingers along the pewter handle. "You don't need ink," he said. "You're a Shadowhunter. You can channel energy through this crystal," his forefinger tapped the tip of the quartz, "onto you skin to draw the runes."

"Anywhere?" she asked, wonder coloring her voice.

"Anywhere," Magnus answered with a soft smile. "Although," he added hesitantly, "I will tell you it won't be painless." Clary lifted her grass green eyes to his, suddenly unsure. He rested a hand over her shaking ones comfortingly. "Don't worry," he said. "I'll be right here the whole time. This isn't one of the more powerful runes so it won't hurt too bad or for very long."

Clary swallowed and looked back down at the stele with trepidation. "How bad will it hurt?" she asked in a small voice.

Magnus sighed and bit his lip. "The more powerful the rune or the longer it takes to draw the rune, the more it hurts," he said. "Or at least," he said with a shrug, "so I'm told." He met Clary's curious gaze with a wry smile. "I can't use Shadowhunter runes."

"Because you're a warlock," Clary said slowly beginning to understand.

"Yes and no," Magnus said. He scooted closer so he could clasp both of Clary's hands in his. "Shadowhunter runes are powerful and only a Shadowhunter can use them correctly. If a Shadowhunter rune is drawn on anyone who isn't a Shadowhunter, whether they're a warlock, Mundane, seelie, it doesn't matter, it will drive them insane. The power of the runes is simply too much for a us to handle. Drawing them on us would result in a sudden influx of incompatible energy and agony the likes of which would drive anyone not a Shadowhunter insane. Usually, the victim dies. But the few who don't become what's called Foresaken."

"What's a Foresaken?" Clary asked, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

Magnus pressed his lips together, considering his answer. "Suffice it to say, they are something I sincerely you never, ever meet Clary Fray," he said, staring directly into her eyes.

Clary felt the blood drain from her face as she listened. Magnus's words were spoken softly like she sometimes heard him talk to his new kitten Chairman Meow after he rescued the little thing from a dumpster in the ally by his apartment. It was the tone he used to calm her down after a bad nightmare or when she was in the midst of a panic attack. She blinked, sitting up in confusion. When did she ever have a panic attack? She didn't remember having bad dreams when she slept over at her uncle's old place either.

Yet she was certain she wasn't imagining those memories. They felt too real to be fake. Blinking away the odd flashes, she lifted her stele, studying the detailing on the handle. After a moment, she looked down at herself deciding where to draw the rune. She was wearing a black shirt for now and the weather would only get colder the closer it got to winter so technically she could draw the rune on her arm if she wanted to. She rolled up her right sleeve, baring her upper arm, and readied her stele.

She looked down at the rune in the Gray Book and began to draw it. She gasped as heat like a burn blossomed where her stele touched. Her eyes stared at the beginnings of the rune on her arm in disturbed interest. Wherever her stele brushed, a bright red line purpling at the edges like a bruise followed. Her gaze skittered between the rune in the Gray Book and where her stele touched, making sure they matched to the best of her ability.

When she was finished, she lowered her stele and ran her fingers over the rune burned on her arm. It ached slightly but the burn was fading. "How long does it last?" she asked.

"It varies from rune to rune," Magnus said, sitting back and admiring his niece's handiwork. "This one should last a while I believe. I hope it didn't hurt to bad," he said, glancing at Clary's face to judge her response.

"It felt like..." She pursed her lips as she rolled her shirt sleeve back down over the new run. "It felt like holding a cup of hot Starbucks coffee without a cup sleeve. The burn's not too bad to start with but it gets worse the longer you hold it. Or in this case," she said, gesturing to her arm, "the longer I drew it."

Magnus hummed. "Interesting," he murmured. "Well now that that's done," he closed the Gray Book and fell back on his bed staring at the ceiling. "I don't know about you but I am in dire need of a nap. I've told my guests to entertain themselves for the time being and they don't need me to babysit them so I'm going to get some shut eye while I can."

Clary snickered. "You're as lazy as a cat," she teased, poking her uncle's side playfully.

Magnus dropped the glamour hiding his true eyes and winked at her. "Naturally," he purred. He settled back on the bed before bolting upright. "I am an idiot!"

Clary flinched back in surprise. "What?"

"My cat," Magnus gasped. "Chairman Meow isn't here. I left him at my apartment last night."

Clary's eyes widened in dawning horror. "Oh god," she muttered. "Will he be ok?"

Magnus was shaking his head and raking his fingers through his hair. "No, no, no. That wasn't supposed to happen, no." He jumped off the bed and scrounged for his shoes. "I'm going back to look for him," he declared.

"Wha- Not without me, you aren't," Clary said, standing up with him and reaching for her own new pair of shoes.

"No, I need you to stay here," Magnus said. "My Lair has sufficient shields to protect you and even i-" He froze, staring crossed eyes at the finger suddenly pressing against his lips effectively silencing him. Movement in front of him caught his attention and he lifted his golden gaze to watch Clary squat down in front of him.

"What did I say about not leaving me behind?" Clary said in a sing-song voice that made him feel like he was a troublesome child and not a centuries old warlock.

Magnus lifted an eyebrow in a perfect arch and returned her sickeningly sweet smile with a flat expression. Surprisingly, he was the first to fold. He rolled his eyes skyward. "Fine, fine," he drawled. "But you do exactly as I say."

"Just like last time," Clary said sweetly, flashing him a cute smile. Satisfied with her victory, she stood and walked over to her bag, ignoring Magnus's exasperated sigh of defeat from behind her. She grabbed her stele and her phone after a brief search and turned back to her uncle with her hands on her hips. "Ready?" she asked.

Magnus snorted getting to his feet. "Where you learned to be so conniving is beyond me," he said in mock disappointment.

"Only from the best," his niece replied striding right up to her uncle. Her white teeth glowed in the sunlight streaming through the bedroom window.

The warlock made a show of considering the young woman in front of him. He sighed theatrically. "Very well, I suppose you'll do," he said. "Now let's hurry and get my cat back." He pouted. "I need my baby."

Clary giggled, her good mood restored as she followed her uncle out of his bedroom into the common area. Some of the warlocks milling around looked up when their hosts entered.

"I'm terribly sorry all," Magnus annouced, "but I'm afraid I have to leave for a short bit. Nothing to worry about, I assure you. I just...left my cat."

"You left your cat?" little Zoe asked, turning around so she could see them over the back of the couch.

"Well," Magnus said awkwardly, "I was in a bit of a hurry when I left my place last night. His eyebrows scrunched and he turned to Clary standing next to him and watching him bemused. "Everything was in a bit of a hurry last night," he whispered just loud enough for her to hear. "But don't worry," he said louder, turning back to his guests. "You can hold him when I get back, how does that sound, hm?" Zoe's smile helped ease the tension in the room. Magnus grinned. "So," he clapped his hands together, "I'll be back in a few. Don't wait up."

Magnus turned around to close his bedroom doors when a hand gripped his shoulder. Biting back a sigh, he straightened and met his new companion's gaze. "Yes, Elias?"

"You can't leave now," the horned warlock said urgently. "This is your Lair. You're the one holding the strongest shields in place. We need you to stay."

"I'm aware I have the strongest shields," Magnus said. "But I'm also aware that the combined shields of every warlock here should be more than enough to hold back a few rogue Shadowhunters."

Elias's grip on Magnus's shoulder strengthened. "You and I both know this isn't just another group of rogue Shadowhunters. It's the Circle." Concern shown in Elias's dark eyes. "That means he's back."

"We don't know that," Magnus said fiercely, casting a glance around the room.

"You know very well we do," Elias replied. "You've heard the rumors. I know because I've told you several. You don't pay me to be you informant for nothing. I do my job."

Magnus's shoulders eased and his gaze dropped briefly. "I don't doubt your abilities Elias," he said. "I know you remember the Uprising as well as I do. What happened to your wife-" Elias looked away and Magnus stopped himself. "I'm sorry." He rested a hand on his friend's arm in a show of trust. "I believe you, Elias," he said firmly drawing his friend's eyes once more. "I do. Never doubt that. But while I may be the High Warlock of Brooklyn, I am also Magnus Bane. I've taken care of my own. Now let me take care of myself."

Elias sighed looking away in resignation. His dark brown eyes settled on Clary nearby and narrowed suspiciously. "Are you ever going to explain her presence here?" he asked.

"When and if it becomes necessary," Magnus said calmly. "Just know that she's as much a victim of this whole thing as we are." Elias lifted his eyebrows in disbelief. "They came for her first," Magnus said, watching wonder and caution fill the horned warlock's face.

"Why?" Elias breathed.

Clary shifted awkwardly under Elias's wide eyed gaze. She rubbed her arms self consciously and Elias noticed something under shirt. She knew he had seen the rune on her arm the moment his wonder changed sharply to cold hatred.

"She's a Shadowhunter?" he hissed furiously.

"She's my niece," Magnus said in a cold voice that brooked no argument. "She was raised as a Mundane and she's under my protection. Is that understood Elias?" he said.

Clary could see the conflict in Elias's expressive face as he fought down the urge to argue. Guilt crept into her throat and she swallowed nervously. She watched Magnus and realized this was the High Warlock of Brooklyn staring Elias in the eye, daring the other warlock to challenge his authority and power. This was the first time she had really seen Magnus like this and it made her feel small. This was not her adorable and eccentric Uncle Magnus. This was Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn.

It was a stark difference that hammered home the knowledge that this was no longer her mundane life. This was cold, hard reality. In this reality her mother was missing, Dot was missing, her best friend was out there somewhere looking for her, the man who she had hoped would be her father one day had betrayed her, and she was a member of some mythical race who could use some kind of runic magic and were, apparently, racist. She suddenly wanted the tiny, fluffy Chairman Meow in her arms more than Magnus did.

Before she could sink further into her depressed funk, she was being yanked through a newly made Portal and stood in Magnus's old apartment. Whatever she had been expecting to see was thrown out the window, the cracked window. The modest apartment was completely trashed. Judging from the expression on Magnus's face, he wasn't handling the destruction very well at all.


	7. Desires, Questions, and a Ruby

**A/N:** This is a long chapter so enjoy! I'll edit it tomorrow when I'm rested.

 **Chapter summary:** In which Magnus and Clary realize they can't have what they had, Simon has lots of questions, and the Shadowhunter gang needs information and gets a ruby.

* * *

 **7: Desires, Question, and a Ruby**

Magnus took a deep, steadying breath in as he absorbed the destruction around him. This may not have been his Lair, but this was as much his home as his Lair was. His Lair was who he was: the High Warlock of Brooklyn with over 400 years under his belt and formidable magic power. But this small place was who he wanted to be: just Magnus Bane, an eccentric uncle with a penchant for mischief and magic.

Seeing his second home, built over several years, ripped apart like this was a chilling reminder that he could never ben who he wanted to be. Not entirely and never forever. He bit his lip and stepped gingerly into the room that once served as his studio. He could feel Clary hesitating behind him. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He reached up and brushed her fingers with his before stepping further into the room.

He had to find Chairman Meow. He'd only had the tiny cat for a couple months but they'd bonded quicker than he'd dared hope they would. He didn't realize how much he needed the little kitten left in a dumpster until it was too late and the Chairman had successfully burrowed his way into Magnus's heart.

"Chairman," he called softly, his voice carrying through the studio apartment. "Come here, little one. Chairman?"

"Here kitty kitty," Clary called, getting down on her hands and knees to look under the damaged futon couch and flipped coffee table. She tried to be mindful of the bits of glass and debris from the busted furniture. She saw Magnus lift the fabric of his hammock bed, sifting through the blankets and pillows, calling for his little friend.

Guilt ate at her. This was her fault. She'd called Magnus last night. She'd gone to him seeking help and he'd taken her in, hidden her, and protected her. But at what cost to him?

The Shadowhunters chasing them were now hunting warlocks, his people, his home was ransacked, and his kitten was missing. She'd never stopped to consider what her involvement in all this was causing for the people around her. She couldn't keep hiding forever. That never seemed to work out in books and movies. Eventually, the hunted had to become the hunter.

She had to stop running. It wasn't getting her anywhere. It was just causing strife and making a bad situation worse.

A familiar ding interrupted her thoughts and she pulled out her phone. An incoming text message from Simon illuminated the screen. She paused her search to open the text and read it through.

/ **Sent:** 4:07 PM  
 **From:** Simon  
 _Hey. I'm sorry. I called Luke. I DIDN'T say ANYTHING! Promise! I just said u vanished last night. Nothing else. Look just tell me yur ok. Dot's place is closed n I don't know what to do._ /

Clary pursed her lips feeling her heart pound precariously as she read the text. Luke knew she was gone.

/ **Sent:** 4:07 PM  
 **From:** Clary  
 _I told you NOT to! Are you ok?_ /

She moved to slip her phone back in her pocket when it dinged again. Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, she opened the new text.

/ **Sent:** 4:07 PM  
 **From:** Simon  
 _OMG U OK! Where r u?!/_

/ **Sent:** 4:08 PM  
 **From:** Clary  
 _I'm ok. Just stay away from Luke. Long story. Just trust me._ /

"Clary?" Magnus called. She looked up to Magnus questioning eyes. "Is everything alright?"

"I-" She was interrupted by yet another ding.

/ **Sent:** 4:08 PM  
 **From:** Simon  
 _Why r u at Magnus's place? HOW r u there? How'd you get past the cop?_ /

"Cop?" Clary muttered, quickly typing and sending the question.

/ **Sent:** 4:08 PM  
 **From:** Simon  
 _The cop by the front door. Dude what?_ /

/ **Sent:** 4:08 PM  
 **From** : Simon  
 _2 more cop cars pulled up. If u wunna avoid Luke, u might want to get out._ /

"Shit!"

"Clary?" Magnus called.

Clary scrambled up from her spot on the floor and rushed to the broken window by the fire escape. She didn't have a good view of the street through the alleyway, but she did see a police car pulled up to the building.

"Clary, what's wrong?" Magnus demanded, following his niece.

"Cops," Clary answered curtly. "Simon warned me."

"He knows we're here?" Magnus gasped, hurrying to join Clary by the window and look out at the gathering crowd in front of his house.

No sooner did they both look out did the sound of voices rise from the store on the first floor below. Magnus tensed and began to work at pushing the window up. Clary quickly pulled out her phone and texted Simon.

/ **Sent:** 4:09 PM  
 **From:** Clary  
 _Quick! Where are you?_ /

/ **Sent:** 4:09 PM  
 **From:** Simon  
 _By Dot's place. In the van. Y?_ /

"Magnus!" she commanded, grabbing her uncle's wrist yanking him from the window. "Portal us to Dot's place."

Magnus glanced at the stairs leading downstairs suspiciously. "What? Why? Clar-"

The voices came closer to the foot of the stairs and Clary recognized Luke's voice. "Magnus now!" she ordered sternly.

Without another question, Magnus activated a Portal and they both hurried in. The last thing she heard was the footsteps hurrying up the stairs before she burst out of existence and reformed in Dot's store. The Portal snapped closed behind her and Magnus but she ignored it in favor was taking in the ruin that was Dot's little store.

"Oh god," she breathed, her hands covering her mouth.

Magnus strode past her, a stern expression on his face, and began feeling the walls and studying the tell-tale stains on the ground. His clinical approach shook her slightly from her shock. She gulped and walked to the doorway facing the small patio that served as a city version of a yard as well as the shaded walkway to Dot's store and her apartment on the second floor.

True to his word, Simon stood by his bright yellow van parked out front by the meter. Her spray paint art stood out against the yellow metal as she ran out the broken door towards her best friend.

"Simon," she called, running to him. "Simon!" she called again when he didn't respond.

Her brow furrowed in confusion and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Simon jumped and made a very unmanly squeak when she appeared in front of him.

"Clary!" Simon cried. "Wh-wh-where did you come- I didn't- How-?"

"I've been calling you this whole time," Clary said, continuing forward until she enveloped her best friend in a fierce hug. "Oh god Simon."

Simon wrapped his arms around Clary and held her tightly to his body. He was so confused and scared for his friend and trying desperately to keep his head above water in this madness. "Hey," he said gently into Clary's hair. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here. You're okay. You- Oh. Holy cow," he breathed.

"What?" Clary asked, stepping back from Simon and following his gaze over her shoulder to see Uncle Magnus standing by the entrance to her place. Her mouth dropped open. "What the... Where's the-?"

"It's hidden by a glamour," the warlock said, glancing back at the building. "It feels like Dot's magic."

"Magic?" Simon repeated incredulously.

"It's keeping the damage hidden from Mundanes," Magnus continued, ignoring Simon. "I should have cast one over my place before leaving," he muttered in frustration.

"We didn't exactly have time," Clary said, reaching out to press against her uncle's arm affectionately. "If we'd stayed any longer they would've killed us."

"Killed?!" Simon gasped loudly. "Woah, woah, what now?"

"Not here," Magnus said, grabbing Simon's shoulder and hustling back through the very clearly closed and locked gate.

Simon flinched away from the metal only to walk right through it. He blinked and his mouth dropped open in shock. He turned back to make sure what just happened had indeed happened and was stunned to see the gate hanging wide open on its hinges and was that a puddle of dried blood on the stones there?

"Clary," he stuttered, gripping his friend's hand, "what's going on? What's that?" he asked, pointing to the red stain.

Clary followed his gaze and paled visibly, her free hand going up to cover her mouth.

"Blood," Magnus answered sharply. He knelt by the stain and pressed a finger to it. Phantom blue-violet flames danced across the stain briefly before vanishing. "Warlock blood," he said definitely.

"Dot," Clary breathed, fighting back a sob.

"Most likely," Magnus replied, watching Clary sympathetically. "But even if it is her's, I'm sure she isn't dead."

"How?" Clary demanded. "How can you know that?"

"Because her glamour is still up," Magnus answered, his voice calm and sure. He rolled up his sleeves and walked back into Clary's loft, making sure his companions followed. "If she was dead, her glamour would vanish."

"That's good to know," Simon said. "Now can someone please tell me what is going on here? I mean, first you keep disappearing on me," he said, pointing an accusing finger at Clary, "then you go missing-" he continued, pointing at Magnus.

"Missing?" Magnus interrupted in surprise.

"Uh, yeah," Simon snarked. "That's kind of why those cops were at your place. They think you were kidnapped or something."

Magnus ran a hand down his face, careful not to mess up his makeup. "Oh dear, this isn't what's supposed to happen," he mumbled.

"Then what _was_ supposed to happen?" Simon insisted. "No, no, not important. What, by all that's holy, did you just do to that blood? I mean, those were flames. Fire. _Blue_ fire. You made _blue fire_ from your _fingers_. How are you not burned? How is that not burned? My head is seriously going to explode. I need sanity. I'm going insane."

Magnus took a deep breath and tuned out Simon. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the scattered antiquities and tossed chairs. His fingers interlaced with each other as he forced himself to calm down and think. As long as they were here, they could go through Clary's things to make sure she couldn't be tracked.

"We might as well check your room," he said finally. "If there's anything in there you value, I suggest you take it. Otherwise, someone else can use it to track you."

"Wait, someone _else_?" Simon said. "As in, someone has already tracked you? You do realize no one's explained this whole thing to me yet, right?"

"When we get back," Clary said, patting Simon's shoulder. "Promise."

Simon sighed in resignation. "Fine," he said. "I trust you."

Clary smiled in relief and hurried up the steps to the second floor that served as her ransacked home. She made her way to her bedroom. The moment she entered she pulled up short. The sudden stop caught Simon off guard and he very nearly walked into her. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong when he saw his best friend's bedroom, or what was left of it. The room was charred and blacked from a very hot, very contained fire.

"You're mother's work, no doubt," Magnus said from his place by Clary's bed. "She must have made sure you couldn't be tracked before facing the Circle."

"The who?" Simon asked.

"The Circle," Clary said. "Are those the Shadowhunters chasing me?"

Magnus looked at her in resignation. "I don't have any firm confirmation," he admitted slowly. "But I would be surprised if it was anyone else." He stood and brushed his ash covered hands off on the remains of Clary's bedspread. "Your mother ran from them to protect you. It would make sense if they found her and this," he gestured widely indicating the whole situation, "is the result."

"Why would she..." Clary started then her eyes narrowed. "This has to do with that Mortal Cup thing, doesn't it?" Magnus didn't give an answer aloud but his silence was answer enough. She shook her head. "Nevermind. We'll do this later."

She began digging through her bedroom for anything she couldn't live without that wasn't burned. Simon moved to join her and promptly fell through a whole in the floor, courtesy of a rickety floorboard.

"Shit!" he gasped, promptly smacking a hand over his mouth. "Oh god, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

Magnus scoffed theatrically. "Please, as if that's the worst thing I've ever heard," he said waving dismissively.

Simon flushed. "Oh, ah, right." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "'Kay."

Clary ignored the exchange in kneeling down to reach down into the hole Simon's foot had found itself in. Something was under there. She could just make out the outline in the dim afternoon filtering through her burned curtains.

"What're you doing?" Simon asked, kneeling down beside his friend and watching her reach into the hole.

"There's something under here," she mumbled, focused on brushing her fingers across the object. Frustrated, she sat back and began trying to rip the floorboard up. She gave a small cry and fell back on her bottom when the floorboard vanished from her floor and subsequently her hands. She looked up at Magnus who shrugged.

"Having magic does have it's perks," he said with a wink.

She smiled and turned back to the hole. Her smile slipped as she pulled out a very old looking wooden box. Metal strips covered the edges and metal clasps were firmly locked in place. The letters 'JC' were made of metal and bolted on either side of the lock in the center.

"What is that?" Simon asked, scooting closer to study to box curiously. "A time capsule or something?"

Clary shook her head. "I... I don't know what this is," she admitted. "I mean, I recognize it but I don't..." She pressed her lips together, vexed. She was getting tired of new things that posed a problem. This box was a problem. But thankfully it wasn't urgent.

"I suggest you keep it with you," Magnus said, drawing the youngsters' attention. "Better safe than sorry."

Clary tucked the box under her arm and stood, Simon loyally by her side. Magnus sighed. He could tell from the look on Simon's face that he probably wasn't going to let Clary out of his sight. Unfortunately for Simon, Magnus's Lair was currently packed to capacity and Simon couldn't leave his van out front forever. It would inevitably be towed.

A soft chime cut through his brooding and he absently pulled out his phone to see a message from Elias glowing on the screen. He read through it briefly and hummed. He didn't want to leave yet, but he knew the longer he stayed away from the protection of his Lair, the more vulnerable he and Clary were.

"Alright," he said, clasping his hands together. "We've overstayed our welcome here. Clary, we need to go back to my Lair for the time being. I need to see to my guests and we need my Lair's protection. Séamus-"

"It's Simon," Simon corrected with a sigh that barely masked the smirk.

Magnus waved away his words and continued. "You should go back home."

"I'm not leaving Clary," Simon insisted, crossing his arms and looking ever bit like a puffed up chipmunk. It was almost cute.

"I don't care," Magnus said. He flicked the middle wire of Simon's glasses distracting him and said, "You can't stay at my Lair."

"Why-"

"Clary," Magnus said, "my Lair is packed as it is. I may love parties but I do like to have a place to call my own."

Clary made a face and nodded reluctantly. "But we can keep texting." It wasn't quite a question given the way she'd word it, but Magnus could hear the subtle request for permission.

"You can keep texting, yes," he said. "But don't," he said this to Simon specifically, "do or say anything that would imply you've seen us. Don't tell Luke anything, and for the Angel's sake stop trying to track us."

Simon's shoulders drooped. "The Find Friends app doesn't even work for wherever you are anyway," he mumbled.

"Of course it doesn't," Magnus said, as if it was obvious.

"Come on Simon," Clary said, looping her arm through Simon's. "I'll walk you back to your van."

Magnus followed the two friends at a slower pace. He had to think and plan. He could already tell that his cute niece would be staying with him for an extended time. He had no problem with that, but it posed a few problems such as where she was going to sleep. He was a gentleman, but even he had limits. There was no way he was giving up his bed for an unknown amount of time. His bed was his nest.

But Clary couldn't be expected to sleep on his couch either. That would just be plain rude. Let it never be said Magnus was a less than perfect host. He had a reputation to keep after all.

That meant he had to find Clary a bed. He stepped out onto the sidewalk just shy of the glamour barrier and stared in the direction of his shop and apartment. He needed to grab a few things in preparation for Clary's stay. The hammock definitely, the pillows and blankets were a must, a few of those books too because they were his, the money in the register for Clary's allowance, and his cat paraphernalia for when he found his little Chairman Meow.

He needed to find his cat. He watched Clary hug Simon close and step back into the glamour's barrier. He snickered at Simon's reaction to Clary seemingly vanishing into thin air. Simon ran a hand through his mop of hair, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and, after a quick glance in either direction, got into his van and drove off.

"He'll be fine, Clary," Magnus said, drawing his niece further into the glamoured patio. "But we do need to go." He rolled his shoulders. "I have a few chores to do tonight."

She gave him a wry grin but glanced over her shoulder again, watching the yellow van round a corner and disappear. "Like what?" she asked.

Magnus grinned, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "What do you think about borrowing a few thing from my apartment?" he inquired with a sly waggle of his eyebrows.

"You mean borrow your own stuff?" she shot back with a snort.

Magnus shrugged. "Well, I'd have to do it after the Mundanes left but you understand. Interested?"

Clary met his gaze with an equally impish grin. "Definitely."

Magnus's grin widened gleefully. He snapped his fingers and a Portal materialized in place of the broken door that was once the entrance to Dot's shop. He held out his hand to Clary in a playful manner. "Coming, fair lady?"

Clary took his hand and sniffed. "Always, fair lord," she replied in a posh, overly exaggerated accent.

Magnus snorted. "I do not sound like that," he said, walking with her towards the Portal.

"Whatever you say," Clary sang.

Magnus shot his niece a suspicious look right before they stepped into the Portal.

* * *

Alec arrived at the Institute a few minutes behind Isabelle and Jace. He stepped into the old church and was greeted something soft brushing against his ankles. He carefully stepped around the Institute's resident cat, using his foot to prevent the mass of gray fur from escaping through the front door. Once the door was closed, he squatted down to pet the cat's head.

"Hey there Church," he said softly.

Church tolerated the petting for all of three seconds before deciding the squirmy thing in Alec's pocket was more interesting. The old cat placed both of its front paws on Alec's knee and stood on its hind legs to get a peak at Alec's pocket. Alec leaned back, worried about Church's possible reaction to his new little friend.

The kitten meow pitifully and poked its head out of Alec's jacket pocket and stared at Church with wide, green-gold eyes. Alec gingerly scooped the handful of fluff out of his pocket and held it out for Church to sniff. Church hissed and Alec winced. However, before he had the chance to react, the kitten meowed loudly and lashed out with a tiny paw and scratched at Church's face. There was no harm done because the kitten's claws got caught in Church's matted fur, bit the point got across quite clearly judging by Church's reaction.

Alec blinked in surprise when Church dropped back down to the floor and scampered away. He studied the kitten in his hand again and felt a smile tug at his lips. This undersized newbie had basically just told Church to back off and, wonder of all wonders, Church _listened_. He briefly wondered if there was a new powerhouse in the Institute. Better get on this one's good side early in the game.

The cat meowed and tried to claw its way back up Alec's shirt to the pocket again. Smiling, Alec helped the cat on its way and stood. He made his way out down the entryway, freezing when he saw his siblings standing at the other end with smiles on their faces.

"Found a new friend, I see," Isabelle teased.

Alec blushed and pushed past them. Isabelle simply pranced up to him so she kept pace with him while Jace matched his stride easily. "I found him at Magnus's place," he said. "I couldn't leave him there."

"Of course not," Izzy agreed easily. "Does he have a name?"

Alec shrugged. This time Jace spoke.

"He needs a name." Alec gave his _parabatai_ a look which Jace studiously ignored. The blonde made a show of thinking hard, then snapped his fingers. "Eureka," he said. "We can call him Eureka."

"What kind of name is that?" Alec groaned.

"It's a perfectly good name," Jace said wisely.

"So is Duck," Alec countered with a smirk.

Jace flinched and stared at his brother in horror. "That is not okay."

Alec chuckled. "Neither is Eureka."

Isabelle flipped her hair over her shoulder and smirked at her brothers' antics. "You're both bad at this," she said.

"What," Alec said, "like you can do better."

"I can," Isabelle said. "Precious."

"That's an adjective," Jace said.

"And church is a building," Isabelle shot back.

Jace held up a finger to start an argument, then shrugged conceding the point. "You're right," he admitted. "Besides, that cat's more Alec's cat than the Institute's cat."

"He is not," Alec said dismissively.

"Dude, that thing won't let anyone near him except you," Jace argued. "Don't even get me started on trying to pet it."

Alec rolled his eyes, absently petting the soft gray and white fur on the new cat's head. He could feel the cat's pleased purr through his jacket against his chest. Unfortunately, that reminded him of what was in his other jacket pocket. He pulled out the photograph and held it out.

"I also found this," he said seriously. "Recognize anyone?"

Isabelle took the photo from her big brother's hand and stared at it in amazement. "Is that-"

"Magnus and that girl," Alec said nodding.

"Clary," Jace said, crossing his arms as he took in the photo's contents.

"I think we can now definitely say the witch hunt for warlocks and this new Shadowhunter girl are related," Isabelle said looking up.

"We should tell Hodge," Jace said.

"Tell me what?" Hodge asked, climbing down the steps from the workout floor. He wiped his sweaty face and hands with a towel before taking the offered photograph. His eyebrows met his hairline when he saw who was in it. "Wow. I've never... seen him like that before."

"The girl in the background is the new Shadowhunter we told you about," Jace said, pointing to the red haired girl. "Her name's Clary."

"How do you know that?" Hodge asked, handing the photo back to Isabelle.

"Apparently, a Mundie friend of her's was looking for her," Jace said.

"He knew about Magnus too," Alec added.

"The Mundane?" Hodge said in disbelief, looking at all three siblings for confirmation.

"Yeah and get this," Jace said, leaning close as if divulging a secret, "Mundie called him 'Uncle' Magnus."

"'Uncle'," Hodge said, his voice and face deadpan. His eyes flicked to Isabelle who shrugged.

"He did," she said. "I heard it. Which brings up another point: Magnus's place was broken into."

"Try trashed," Alec said, pulling out the now antsy kitten from his pocket. He let it burrow into the crease of his elbow and purr as he scratched behind its ears. "The place was turned inside out."

"I assume that's where you found this little guy," Hodge said, stepping up and running a single finger along the kitten head with a soft smile on his face.

Alec flushed and shifted awkwardly. "I...couldn't leave him alone," he mumbled. He huffed. "Especially when the Mundane law enforcement was involved."

Hodge looked up at him bewildered. "Why were the Mundanes involved? Magnus is a powerful warlock. He can hide from the Silent Brothers if he wants to. He wouldn't leave his Lair unwarded like that."

Alec shook his head. "It wasn't his Lair," he said firmly. "It didn't feel... It felt lived in but it didn't feel like a Lair."

"So a cover then." Hodge stood back and scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," Alec said grimly. "It was definitely Shadowhunters who trashed the place. One of the doors had clearly been slashed by seraph blades."

Hodge closed his eyes in defeat. "It's the Circle," he said.

"The Circle was defeated after the Uprising," Isabelle said.

Their mentor held up a hand. "Officially, yes. Unofficially, no. Not all the members were captured. And who's to say more didn't join up?"

"Yes, but Valentine is dead," Jace said, looking to his _parabatai_ for backup. "Everyone knows that."

"No body was found," Hodge countered. "Playing Devil's advocate here," he said, leaning against a column, "Valentine could- _nngh!_ " He suddenly winced and doubled over in pain as a circular rune on his neck burned hot and red.

Jace hissed and held Hodge up, supporting him through the pain. Alec and Isabelle grimaced in sympathy.

"The _monster_ ," Hodge corrected himself, "very well be alive and reviving the Circle. Or he could really be dead and the Circle's decided to act up without him. Or it may not be the Circle at all."

"But you think it is," Isabelle said grimly.

Hodge nodded silently. She met her big brother's eyes and felt small. This was bigger than all of them. Alec pressed his lips together in thought.

"We have to talk to Magnus," Isabelle said. "We saw him protecting Clary and we know they're on good terms-"

"And that something or some _one_ ," Alec added with a glance at Hodge, "is hunting warlocks. They're both in the middle of this."

"But if Magnus is gone to ground, then it'll be hard to get him to come out," Jace said, huffing in disappointment.

Hodge tilted his head. "Not necessarily," he said slowly.

He gestured for the siblings to follow him and made his way over to a certain tile on the floor. He drew out his stele and drew the rune inscribed on the tile. A hidden storage shelf rose up out of the floor revealing several layers of glass shelves and a box at the bottom. He slid the lid of the box off and drew out a silver necklace with a huge, red jewel embedded in the pendant.

Isabelle's eyes glowed with awe. "Is that what I think it is?" she breathed.

"It is indeed," Hodge said, a grin on his face. "Four karat, unheated Burmese ruby. Magnus gave this to your ancestors about a century ago. It's enchanted to alert the wearer if demons are nearby." He looped the chain over his fingers so the pendant rested in the palm of his hand. "He makes no secret of his desire to have it back."

"Why?" Alec asked curiously eyeing the ruby.

"It was a gift to his lover at the time," Hodge explained. "Camille Belcourt."

Alec's eyebrow lifted in surprise. "Warlock gets around." Jace snorted impolitely and Alec felt his lips twitch up at the corners.

Hodge rolled his eyes at the youngsters's bickering. "Offer this to Magnus," Hodge suggested. "If it matters as much to him as he claims it does then he might just take the bait."

Jace shook his head. "He may want it but... Nah. Magnus won't come out of hiding just for some necklace. Even if it is enchanted."

"Agreed," Alec said. "Not with the Circle or even Valentine trying to kill him."

"Never underestimate Magnus's hedonism, or his greed," Hodge said, handing the necklace to Isabelle. "Find a way to contact him. Get the word out to your Downworlder friends that you're interested in a trade."

"The necklace for information," Isabelle said, taking the jewel reverently.

"He won't do it," Alec said, crossing his arms and leaning toward his _parabatai_.

Isabelle smirked. "Oh he will."

She closed her hand around the jewel and strode confidently over to a tablet lying on a table nearby. She casually picked it up and swiped through several screens before sending the current image of her choosing up to one of the larger screens. The image was a snapshot of a VIP invitation to a rave at the Downworld bar Hardtail.

"Where'd you get that?" Alec teased.

Isabelle just winked at him. "Some of us go out every now and then," she said, a shit-eating grin on her face. Alec rolled his eyes and Izzy turned back to the screen. "word on the street is that Magnus likes to party. We can set up a meeting here tomorrow night and no one would bat an eye."

"And if he doesn't show," Alec said, fingering the photograph, "we can try to track him with this." Jace met his gaze and nodded in agreement.

"Sounds good," the blonde Shadowhunter said.

"Don't underestimate him," Hodge warned. "Magnus is both very old and very powerful. He's a High Warlock and has friends in high places. I would suggest using caution." Here he stared at Jace specifically. Jace gave his mentor his best innocent look which only resulted in a snort.

"I'll spread the word," Isabelle said. "Just let me put on something decent."

Jace pressed his lips together hard, fighting back his laughter.

"Not a word," Alec warned.

Jace covered his mouth and his shoulders trembled but somehow managed to stay silent. It was clearly a Herculean effort.


	8. Of Detectives and Warlocks

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay. This is the last week of classes so everything's due this week. Then Final Exams are next week. So I'm buckling down and writing my final paper. ...after this...

Side note: There are NO OCs in this chapter. I try to use as many legitimate characters as possible. Y'all may recognize the detective and her possè. If not, Google their names. It may be right up y'all's alley of interest

 **Chapter summary:** In which Luke meets the detective in charge of Magnus's missing persons case and Magnus gets news while being impatient.

* * *

 **8: Of Detectives and Warlocks**

Detective Beckett rushed up the stairs with her gun drawn when she heard sounds coming from the apartment above. But when she arrived, it was empty and other than the same level of destruction up here as below, nothing seemed disturbed. She checked the broken window and the closet and bathroom just to be sure, but the place was empty. She replaced her weapon and turned to her two companions. Detective Ryan and Detective Esposito followed her lead, replacing their weapons.

Esposito leaned down the stairwell and called, "Clear. Come on up."

The forensics team filtered steadily into the room. Beckett stepped out of their way, crowding close to her friends.

"What was that all about?" Ryan asked his superior curiously.

Beckett crossed her arms. "I heard something," she said. "It sounded like voices."

"It could be from next door," Esposito suggested. "This place is old. It wouldn't be hard to believe the whole paper-thins walls thing."

"Besides," Ryan added glancing back down the stairs, "we have gathered a bit of a crowd outside."

Beckett shrugged but still appeared unconvinced. "Maybe." She shifted. "From what I hear, people seemed to like Magnus Bane," she said, abruptly changing the conversation to business. "Quiet, friendly, if a bit eccentric."

"Eccentric, yeah just a bit," Esposito snickered. "I mean seriously, what kind of name is 'Magnus Bane' anyway?"

Ryan smiled. "Sounds magnanimous to me," he joked.

Esposito turned to his partner with a mock impressed expression. "Well I'll be damned," he said. "It seems our very own Kevin Ryan has read through the dictionary."

Kevin gave his best friend a tolerant glare before shaking his head. Javier Esposito patted his friend's shoulder in apology. They'd been through a lot together. They teased and poked and prodded, but not even marriage could separate them. Beckett rolled her eyes at the boys' antics. It both brightened her day when it was usually filled with death and depression. She wouldn't trade her two best minds and closest friends for anything.

Her eyes returned to the apartment now crawling with a forensics team. She was a homicide detective so normally missing persons were not on her radar unless she was told otherwise or it involved her investigation. She had been assigned to this case due to her precinct being short staffed. Apparently, building the new wing of the precinct was worth spending money on, but the policemen's paycheck wasn't.

She suspected her assignment to this case to have more to do with is vicinity to where Demon Killer's victims had been found. Each victim had gone missing the day before orly to show up dead, naked, and drained of blood. She was here because Captain Vargas was sincerely hoping this had nothing to do with the Demon Killer. By assigning her to this case instead of Detective Luke Garroway who was currently in charge of the Demon Killer case, the media would not immediately assume the worst. Detective Kate Beckett and her team were a diversion.

It irked her but she understood her captain's reasoning. The media was already eating up the Demon Killer story. The last thing they needed was a mass hysteria situation. Besides, she wasn't in a hurry to see another dead body.

Although, judging from the call she'd received on the drive over from the captain, Detective Garroway would be stopping by anyway. Apparently, Garroway knew the victim. It raised a few flags in Beckett's mind. The timing and style of this missing persons case hinted at perhaps being an attack on the Demon Killer case's investigating detective, Garroway. Or, and Beckett truly didn't like the thought of this possibility, the killer attempting to cover his tracks by throwing suspicion off of him or her. Hopefully, this would turn out to be unrelated to the Demon Killer case and just end up a sad coincidence Garroway was involved.

"Detective Beckett?"

Speak of the devil.

"Detective Garroway," Beckett said, grasping the man's hand and shaking it firmly. "This is Detective Ryan and Esposito." She gestured to her companions who took turns shaking Garroway's hand. "You alright?" she asked, taking in the man's concerned eyes.

"Uh." The dark man turned around, taking in the remains of the small apartment. He shook his head and propped his hands on his hips. "I've been better," he admitted.

Beckett nodded in understanding. She took the opportunity to study her colleague. Detective Garroway was a large man but not one ounce of his mass was fat. He was built like a boulder but his eyes were gentle. He had an air about him that demanded respect. He was bald but had impressive facial hair that he kept neatly trimmed. She was impressed.

"I understand you knew the victim," Beckett began, opening up the conversation.

"Yeah." Garroway pursed his lips in worry. "Magnus Bane. He's- well, he's a friend of mine. We weren't close, I guess, but he wasn't the kind of person you can forget easily," he said, an amused smile on his face.

"Can you think of any reason why he may have run off?" Esposito asked.

"You think he ran?" Garroway asked curiously. His eyes narrowed in thought.

"Not necessarily," Ryan said. "The door looks like it's been through a wood chipper," he said, pointing to the sad wooden remains of the door at the top of the stairs. "Most runaways don't go that far to keep up an illusion."

"You're right," Garroway said. "It doesn't make sense."

"How do you know each other?" Beckett asked.

Garroway sighed heavily. "We met about ten years ago," he said. "My- Jocelyn knew him better than I did. He and Clary got along well."

"Clary?"

"Clary Fray." A faint smile twitched Garroway's face. "She's my... Her mother and I... We're hoping to... Jocelyn and I are seeing each other." He flushed. "I've like to be Clary's father one day."

Beckett smiled. "I see. I'd like to talk to Ms. Fray," she said. "If they can tell me anything about Magnus that could help us find him, we need to know."

"Of course," Garroway said, waving dismissively. "I know the drill. I can give you the address. Actually, they live just a couple blocks from here." He hesitated. "I haven't spoken to them in the past day or so though. Work, you know," he admitted with a shrug. "Here. Got something to write with?"

"Oh, right here," Ryan said, ripping out a blank page from his notebook. He handed it and a pen to Garroway who took it and scribbled the Fray's address on it.

"I don't want to step on any toes or anything," Garroway said cautiously, handing Ryan the address. "But I would like to be kept in the loop. This is your investigation. Lord knows I'be got my hands full." The detectives chuckled politely. "But Magnus is my friend. We may not be close, but he's been there when Clary needed him and I can't find fault with that."

"Sure." Beckett stepped out of the way of an older forensics tech and nodded to the stairs. "Ryan, Esposito."

"Ma'am?" they chimed in unison.

"Take a look around," she ordered. "Have the techs bag anything of interest they haven't gotten already. Garroway and I will be downstairs."

"Sure thing," Esposito said, stepping into the crowd of people, Ryan right on his heels.

"Shall we?" she said, gesturing to the stairs.

"After you," Garroway said. "And call me Luke," he added as Beckett made her way down the steps. "Most people do."

"Luke then." Beckett rounded the corned out of the stairwell into the curtained back room of the ground floor shop. "So what is all this anyway?" she asked, pointing to the Tarot cards scattered on the floor and the various items in the shop.

"Magnus was a bid of a Mother Earth person, if you know what I mean," Luke said with a wry smile, following Beckett into the shop proper. "He sold homeopathics, teas, candles, chimes, knickknacks, you name it. Occasionally he'd stumble something unique or odd or weird and I'd put that on sale too. Or keep it, it really all depended."

"On what?"

Luke shrugged absently. "Whether he liked it or not," he answered. "If Clary liked it, he'd let her have it for some strange price." At Beckett's curious look, Luke chuckled. "He'd have her paint his nails, or make her promise to have a day out with him, or have her draw for him. She's an art student, just got accepted in the Brooklyn Academy of Art," he added proudly.

"Congratulations to her," Beckett said. "I have to ask though, what was the relationship Magnus had with Clary?"

Luke gave her an odd look before understanding. He snorted. "Not what you're thinking, trust me," he said. "She's not his type. He's bi, but," he shook his head, "not interested. I don't think he's had a partner in the years since I've known him. Maybe a one night stand or two but nothing serious. He's like an uncle to Clary. Oh, her friend Simon too."

"Simon? Who's Simon?" Beckett asked.

"Hey!" a voice called. A man with well coiffed hair brown hair and a ready smile strode up to the duo expectantly. "I miss anything?"

Beckkett rolled her eyes. "Detective this is Richard Castle, Castle meet Detective-"

"Luke Garroway," Castle said, taking Garroway's hand and shaking it enthusiastically. "Yeah, you're the detective assigned to the Demonic Murders case."

"Unfortunately. But please don't call it that," Luke groaned. "The media's already running away with it as it is."

"Oh, sure. It's all hush hush," Castle said, holding a finger up to his lips and winked.

Beckett groaned and turned to Luke. "Look, I'm sorry but-"

Luke held up a hand forestalling her apology. "No apology necessary Detective," he said. "I can give you Simon's information too if you have something to write with."

"Oh yes. I do!" Castle exclaimed. He quickly pulled out a small notebook and pen from his pocket and handed them to Luke who quirked an eyebrow at his unusually giddy attitude.

"Thanks," Luke said. He clicked the pen and wrote down Simon's information on the paper. When he moved to hand the notebook over to Castle, Beckett snatched it out of his hand. Luke had to bite back a smile when Castle's figure droopped in betrayal.

"Simon Lewis," Beckett read.

"Yeah, he's Clary's best friend,". Luke explained. "Actually, he's the one who took the photograph you have of Magnus."

"Really?" Beckett said. She would have to talk to this boy. "Thank you. Now if you'll excuse me."

"Sure, sure. You take care." He turned to go, pausing at the door. "Oh and Detective," he called back into the room before the woman and her enthusiastic companion went back behind the curtain. He waited until she turned before saying, "Be careful."

Then he left. He never saw the woman's eyes narrow or the enthusiastic man's eyes sparkle with interest.

* * *

Magnus could be patient. He really could, honest. But by the Angel above, those Mundanes simply would not leave. Now Elias was getting on his case about staying away from his protected Lair for so long and it was beginning to grate at Magnus' nerves. He could tell Clary was chomping at the bit with nothing to do either. She had taken to texting Simon every second of free time she had, which was a lot.

In her defense, Magnus had seen her sign up for classes for fall and play with little Zoe. Magnus watched Zoe sit next to Clary while they both watched some music video on youtube while her father Adham sipped a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Zoe wasn't the youngest warlock he knew of, but she was the youngest warlock child in his territory.

Warlock children were few and far between. It was getting harder and harder for demons to have children with humans. Many women used forms of birth control these days. The few warlock children who managed to survive long enough for their warlock mark to manifest would often end up lost in the bowels of society, killing themselves either deliberately or accidentally from experimenting with their newfound magic, or being killed by other people.

Zoe had been lucky when Adham found her. She was a rare treasure Magnus had no intention of tarnishing. She deserved the live her life in peace. Perhaps Magnus should take Elias' advice and consider Portaling his guests to the Spiral Labyrinth. Tessa Gray could take care of them from there. They would be protected there. Of course, Tessa would be less than pleased with the sudden influx of warlocks but Magnus doubted she would complain too loudly. He would just have to watch his wine when he visited her next. He glanced down at the tea in his hand right now suspiciously before sipping it.

Footsteps shuffled behind him alerting him to Elias' presence. "Yes?"

"We need to talk."

Magnus chuckled. "Oh, those are never welcome words to hear," he teased, turning around to face his friend. Elias wore his now trademark worried expression on his sharp, angular face. His plump lower lip just above the three tiny spikes was nibbled raw. Elias had been a worrywart since his wife's brutal murder. Understandable given the circumstances. But even though he sometimes came off as overbearing, Magnus valued Elias' advice and ability to gather information. Thus he found the faintest hint of concern rise in his own chest. Whatever was worrying Elias was clearly significant.

"What is it, my friend?" Magnus asked, setting his tea aside to give Elias his full attention.

Elias' eyes scanned the room quickly, settling briefly on Clary and Zoe before returning to Magnus. He flushed when Magnus raised an eyebrow. "I heard something," he said finally. "One of my contacts told me two Circle members were found dead."

"What?" Magnus gasped. He quickly lowered his voice when his shocked exclamation caught the attention of several warlocks nearby. He could feel his niece's eyes on his back and decided this wasn't the type of conversation that should be overheard. "This way."

He gripped Elias' elbow and pulled him across the common living area, past his bedroom to his study. Once inside, he closed the door and magicked it locked. "Now, what was it you were saying about dead Circle members?" he asked seriously.

Elias sat down in the chair by the table in the center of the room and sighed. "A man and a woman. From what I hear, the werewolves are responsible. Though you didn't hear that from me."

"No, of course not," Magnus said, trailing his fingers along the wood grain of the table. He snapped his fingers and several well used candles light, giving the room a warmer, brighter glow. The turned to the wall of books on the far wall, sighing when he noticed the gaping holes that should hold the books he left at his shop.

"Who found the bodies?" he asked.

"Mundane police," Elias said. He leaned on the table and gazed at Magnus sternly. "The Mundanes are getting involved in things they shouldn't. This jeopardizes the secrecy and security of the entire Shadow World. If the Mundanes find out about us-"

"They won't," Magnus said firmly.

"But if they do-"

"They won't Elias," Magnus repeated, warning his friend with his hard, unglamoured gaze.

Elias met it evenly, refusing to back down. "They will if this continues to spiral out of control," he said. "You and I both know there's more to those 'Demonic' murders," he said air quotes, "then meets the eyes."

Magnus dropped his gaze and pressed his lips together. He couldn't deny that. He did have his suspicions. The murders were of a vampiric nature, but Camille wasn't messy. She wouldn't leave the bodies out in the open like that. She would keep her victims as playthings, killing them only when she lost interest. Killing a vampire tended to not leave bodies behind.

Magnus also knew Raphael. Raphael would never approve of such a messy disposal method either. The Mundanes naturally suspected another Mundane armed with a formalin pump was responsible. Perhaps that was true, but for some reason that answer did not sit right with him. Something told him there was more to it than that.

Then there was those two Circle members in his club the other night. He'd promptly kicked them out, but why were they there in the first place? Pandemonium catered to the Downworlders and those Mundanes with a darker, wilder side. It wasn't a place the Circle would haunt unless it was the massacre the patrons.

Then Clary had seen those Shadowhunters killing what he now was almost certain were demons. Demons in his club. Was it a coincidence that both demons and the Circle were there that night? If not, why there? Why Pandemonium of all places?

"Magnus?"

Magnus shook himself out of his thoughts at Elias's concerned question. "What else did you hear?" he asked.

Elias just gave him a look which he refused to meet. Sighing, Elias said, "I got word from the Seelies that the Institute wants to talk."

"Talk?" Magnus repeated with a disbelieving laugh. "More like command." Elias lifted an eyebrow and Magnus raised his hands. "Sorry, sorry. Please continue."

"They want to trade," he said. "Apparently, the Shadowhunter woman who made the offer thinks she has something you want."

Magnus snorted again. "What could she possibly have that would warrant me meeting her? What guarantee do I have of her credibility? Pay before work. That's just good business" he said, waving a finger at Elias who merely rolled his eyes.

Elias remained quiet for almost thirty seconds before Magnus finally caved. "Okay, I'm curious," he said. "What does she think is so 'valuable' to me?" He snapped his fingers willing a martini to his hand.

"A ruby necklace," Elias replied. "Something you gave to an old lover. She seems to think you might be interested. Are you?" he asked when Magnus suddenly faced him fully, eyes focused.

Magnus tilted his head thoughtfully. "Only if it is what I think it is," he said, sipping his drink. "Did she give a place and time?"

Elias gaped. "You can't be seriously considering-"

"Place and time, Elias?" Magnus pressed.

Elias glared. "Some rave at Hardtail tomorrow night," he spat.

It was a good choice. Loud noise, lots of people, drugs, alcohol, sex. It was definitely a place to blend in. Magnus had to give this unnamed Shadowhunter woman kudos for suggesting the place. Most Shadowhunters would avoid a Downworlder rave like the plague.

He hummed. "I'll consider it," he said.

"Magnus, please, think for a second," Elias said, slamming his hand on the table and standing. He was taller than Magnus, though admittedly not by much. He used his height well though. His dark eyes gleaming fiercely. "You are the High Warlock of Brooklyn. You offered us your protection, your shields, and yet these past few hours have been the longest you have stayed here within sight since we arrived." Elias stepped around the table towards his friend. "The warlocks need your power, yes, but they also need you. You are their leader, their protector. Just seeing you about is enough to calm them."

"They can't stay here forever," Magnus said, lowering his martini away from his lips. "I may be the High Warlock of Brooklyn but I am not a fairy godmother or magic charm."

"I don't-" Elias bit his lip and tried again. "That's not what I meant," he said more calmly, keeping his temper on a tight reign. "I mean seeing you alive and well and active gives them hope. The Mundanes have their heroes, people they look up to. For us, that person is you." He sighed. "If not for them, then for me. Stay for me."

Magnus dropped his gaze, considering his friend's words carefully. "I'll take your advice into consideration," he said eventually. "You have my word." Elias' shoulders drooped in relief. "But I do need to make another trek to my old apartment. There are a few things there I would rather weren't in the hands of Mundanes."

Elias rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said. "But if you're not back by midnight, I'll call Tessa."

Magnus snickered. "I'm shuddering in my boots," he teased. "Here," he said, handing his unfinished martini to Elias. "Drink up, my friend. Don't want you falling asleep before my carriage becomes a pumpkin."

Elias watched his friend sweep past him in confusion. What did carriages and pumpkins have to do with anything?


	9. Sleep Doesn't Always Help

**A/N:** I'm so sorry for the long delay in posting this. Spring semester is finally over so I'm attempting to update all my fics over the next few days.

 **Chapter summary:** In which Magnus and Clary borrow without permission, Magnus does some redecorating, Sleep isn't an escape, and Detective Beckett is suspicious.

* * *

 **9: Sleep Doesn't Always Help**

The Mundane police force finally vacated the premise around late evening leaving only one police officer standing guard by the door. Magnus poked his head around the corner of the curtain to make sure the policeman's back was to him before casting a glamour to hid his and Clary's presence. Once it was firmly in place, he skipped out into the store and began pulling the books from the shelves.

"Try to be quiet," he whispered to Clary who did her best to unhook the chimes from the ceiling. "The glamour should mute most of the noise, but a loud bang is still a loud bang."

She nodded and was careful to keep the chimes as quiet as possible. She snapped a rubber band around the chimes and slipped them into one a bag Magnus gave her. The warlock had one of his own which he placed the books into. He nabbed most of the candles and his more magical potions from the stash on the shelves and under the counter. His two favorite pillows from the Tarot room behind the counter also went into the bag.

Next it was upstairs. He unhooked the hammock from the ceiling and stuffed it as well as the blankets and pillows into the bag. A few more books and crystals he had a particular liking for and they were done. Clary dropped her bag next to his and he got ready to leave. He took one last look around the little apartment and realized this would probably be the last time he would ever see this place. The Mundanes would be crawling all over this place tomorrow when their theft was discovered.

His dismay must have been obvious because Clary put a hand on his arm, rubbing it gently. "Hey," she said softly. "Don't worry. We'll get my mom back, we'll get this place back, it'll be fine. I'll make sure of it."

She said those words with such determination, like absolutely nothing would stop her, Magnus couldn't help but smile. He glanced at her and was met by a fond smile. He took a deep breath to center himself and prepared to summon a Portal that would take them both home.

They emerged from the Portal in Magnus' study. Clary systematically took the books out of the bags and handed the, to Magnus who put them back in their old spots on his bookshelf. The warlock made sure to break the monotony of old tomes by the crystals, potions, and knickknacks he took from his apartment. The candles were placed on the table then carried out into the common area.

"Put the three big ones on the mirror on the table, biscuit," Magnus order, pointing to the circular mirror sitting in the center of the coffee table.

Several warlocks including Zoe and Elias looked up at their entrance. "Can I help?" Zoe asked tentatively.

"Of course," Clary said with a smile. "Here," she said, handing Zoe the candles. "Set them up however you want."

"You two have fun," Magnus said, taking the rest of the items into his bedroom. "I'll be in here if you need me." He stepped into his bedroom, closed the door behind him, and immediately began redecorating.

Clary wasn't sure whether to be unnerved by the flashes of blue light illuminating the red stained glass windows of Magnus' bedroom doors. From the look on Elias' face, neither did he. The warlock in question must have felt her gaze on him because he suddenly looked at her, unerringly catching her gaze. Clary swallowed and met Elias' gaze head on, even lifting an eyebrow in challenge. It must have been the right thing to do because he smirked and walked over to her.

"So you're his niece," he said without preamble.

Clary stood and nodded. "I've known him all my life," she said.

Elias' gaze flickered warily at the flashing blue light before returning to her. "You're a Shadowhunter," he said slowly, "but you were raised as a Mundane." He hesitated, as if fighting with himself. "How... How did that happen?"

"I don't really remember, actually," she admitted. "My mom ran from the Circle and took me with her, but that's all I know."

"Your mother was a Shadowhunter?" Elias asked. "What's your last name?"

"Fray," Clary said. "Why?"

"She must have changed her name," Elias murmured. "Fray isn't a Shadowhunter name."

Clary's curiosity peaked. "Shadowhunters have specific names?" she asked. "How so?"

"Their names are compound," Elias explained. "Herondale, Lightwood, Penhollow." He waved vaguely and Clary got the picture. "Actually, Shadowhunter was the name of the first Shadowhunter."

"Shadowhunter was a guy's name?" Clary asked, scrunching up her face. "I almost feel sorry for the guy."

Elias's lips twitched upwards in the hint of a wry smile.

"Do other people, races have name types too?" Clary asked interested.

Elias nodded. He tugged her closer to the windows facing the alleyway so a warlock could pass by. "Warlocks prefer single syllable names," he said.

"You mean like Bane?" she asked, glancing at Magnus' bedroom. The blue flashes had died down but still flickered vaguely.

"Yes," Elias replied.

"What's yours?"

Elias bit his spiked lower lip hesitantly before sighing. "Dao," he said simply.

"Elias Dao," Clary said, sounding out the name. "I like that. It's nice." She offered the cautiously surprised warlock a friendly smile. Her brow furrowed when Elias tilted his head, studying her closely. "What is it?" she asked.

Elias gazed at her strangely, as if it was the first time he'd ever seen her. "You're different," he said slowly.

"Different," Clary parroted, not sure if she should be offended or not. "What do you mean by that?"

"You're not a racist prick," Elias replied bluntly.

Clary's brows rose to her hairline in surprise. "Oh, okay. That's... You're welcome, I guess?"

The corner of Elias's mouth twitched upwards again but he turned and walked away before she could see him smile. She still felt a small sense of victory, however. Maybe Elias wasn't as cold as he seemed. Her thoughts were jerked back to reality when she heard a door opening.

"Biscuit," Magnus called from his bedroom, waving her over with a smile. "Come see."

Mildly afraid, Clary walked over to the doors to Magnus' bedroom and stepped in cautiously. Her eyes widened when she did though. The walls were still lined with the dark wood decorated with openings inspired by elegant Middle Eastern design. Backlit red rice paper filled the openings giving the room a dark, mystical feel.

It was a stark contrast to her uncle's bright and airy apartment. Magnus had completed rearranged the layout of the room to accommodate Clary. His bed had been moved from its prominent position in front of the bay windows to the left wall and turned around so its long side paralleled the far wall.

The left side of the large bay windows where Magnus' bed had been now started at the foot of his bed. They were thrown open, the frames latched in place to keep them from banging around in the breeze. A cool breeze and warm light from the fading dusk and the numerous clubs and nightlife along the street below filtered in through the opening. The breeze disturbed a very familiar hammock strung up from the ceiling and covered in the blankets and pillows Magnus and Clary had recovered from his old apartment.

Clary smiled. "I like this," she said, letting her eyes wander as she approached the hammock. She caressed the soft cashmere blanket on top of the pile, enjoying the softness of it. "So where are you going to sleep?" she teased, turning back to her uncle. "The bed or the hammock?"

"Oh, I'm taking the bed definitely," Magnus said as if the answer was obvious. Clary gave him a confused look and Magnus's smiled softened. "The hammock is for you." He watched Clary's face glow with wonder. "You always slept there when you visited overnight. I thought you might enjoy the familiarity while we search for your moth-"

He fell silent when a blur of ginger hair flashed across his sight and the weight of his niece struck him fully in the chest. Clary's arms latched around his body and clung to him like a lifeline. Magnus felt his smile sadden as he wrapped his own arms around Clary and let her cling. If he felt warm tears dampen is silk shirt, he made no comment.

He knew the pain of losing a mother. Even though he was fairly certain Jocelyn was not dead, it didn't change the fact that she was gone. Jocelyn had been one of Clary's few supports. Magnus was proud to say he was another, as was the young Mundane Simon and Luke Garroway.

He wasn't sure what to make of Clary's declaration that Luke had betrayed them. Magnus was aware of Luke's past with Valentine and the Circle and suspected there was more to what Clary had seen than what she knew. Luke had been working the Demonic Murders case for a while now and Magnus had offered his assistance should it be needed. He had not gotten the chance to have Elias investigate Luke's involvement in all this yet, mostly because he was hesitant to endanger his friend. Elias was a fabulous informant with many connections, but he was also a warlock and the Circle was hunting warlocks relentlessly.

He would deal with this tomorrow morning. For now, it was best to sleep so he could deal with this with a sharp, clear mind.

* * *

Magnus was woken from a deep sleep by screaming. He scrambled out of bed, terrified his Lair had been attacked. But he could feel the tingling of his shields and wards; they were all still firmly in place. Confused and on edge, Magnus turned towards the screams and felt his heart drop.

Clary was tangled in the hammock, eyes squeezed shut, and screaming. He hurried to her just as she fell free from the hammock and squirmed frantically on the floor. His bedroom door burst open and Elias ran inside, stopping abruptly when he took in the scene before him. Magnus ignored Elias and tried to calm Clary.

She didn't respond to his voice. In fact, she flinched away from him, got up and ran away, curling up in the corner of the room as far from Magnus as she could get. Her eyes were open but unfocused as she screamed and sobbed. That was when Magnus realized what was happening. Swallowing back his grief and guilt, he cast another ward up around just his room. It would keep the sounds from escaping the room's walls. He and Elias could make sure Clary did not bodily escape either.

"What is going on?" Elias asked, his voice unsure. He was unable to tear his eyes from Clary's terrified form.

Magnus stood but did not move from his place. "It's a night terror," he said softly. "She's has them from time to time."

Elias finally looked away from the screaming, sobbing young girl to his friend and leader. "What aren't you telling me?" he said softly. His dark brown eyes bore into his friend's head, daring Magnus to meet his gaze and explain. "Tell me," he insisted. "I am your friend. This doesn't just involve you and Clary anymore. It involves me and the lives of every warlock in your Lair. This is important. Tell me."

Magnus hesitated, caught between his promise to Jocelyn and his duty as High Warlock of Brooklyn. A half minute later, he sighed in defeat. He sent a silent apology to Jocelyn and turned to Elias. His duty was to his people first, friends and clients second.

"Her mother was a client of mine," he said, eyes flicking to Clary who had devolved into crying and swiping at monsters her dream-addled mine created. "Her mother asked me to remove Clary's memories," he admitted. "It was to prevent," he waved at the terrified child, "this."

"Well it certainly worked," Elias said sarcastically.

Magnus shot his friend a half-hearted glare. "The spell only lasts for two years," he said. "I couldn't manage any longer without causing her brain damage. I'm already toeing a line here. Jocelyn's original request was out of the question. She only convinced me to remove Clary's memories by forcing me to watch when…" His eyes again flickered to his weeping niece.

Elias sighed and bit his tongue, understanding the pain of watching someone in pain. He remembered all too clearly his beloved wife screaming and writhing in his arms as she died from a wound Elias could not heal fast enough. It ripped his heart out and shredded it. Only Magnus befriending him and giving him a new purpose, a reason to live had stopped him from ending his own life to follow his beloved in death.

However, there was something Magnus said that caught his attention. "What do you mean Jocelyn's original request?" Magnus looked away, avoiding Elias' gaze. "What did she want, Magnus?" he pressed.

"She wanted me to remove Clary's inner eye," Magnus said.

Elias felt the floor drop away as the implications of such a demand crashed into his mind. He turned horrified eyes to the sobbing girl on the floor, swallowing over his suddenly dry throat. Magnus refused to speak anymore. Elias watched his friend and leader move cautiously towards Clary to kneel by her side. He wrapped his arms around her and held while she wept. Clary's screamed shot up in pitch as she struggled to escape but Magnus held her tight, refusing to let her go free. He whispered soft words to her, breathing a spell in Cthonian that eased the desperation manifesting in Clary's still sleeping mind.

Eventually, Clary's sobbed ebbed away to weak whimper, tears ceased streaming and simply leaked from her now closed eyes. Her fear crazed expression was gone replaced by sadness and exhaustion. Magnus still would not let go of the poor girl, feeling her body shiver from exertion as it attempted to relax back into a deeper, more fulfilling slumber. His unglamoured eyes cast down in tired concern. He could feel Elias standing where he had left him. The other warlock had not moved a muscle.

"Will she remember any of this?" Elias whispered, his soft voice loud in the silence of the dark room.

Magnus shook his head slowly, pressing a kiss to Clary's messy hair. "No," he replied just as softly. "She never does."

Elias sighed. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Don't tell her," Magnus said, casting a pleading gaze to his friend. "I want to tell her myself."

"You said the spell only lasts two years," Elias said. Magnus remained silent, dropping his gaze back to the floor. "Does it expire this year?" Elias asked.

"Two days ago," Magnus said. "Her mother missed the appointment because it was Clary's eighteenth birthday and she was interviewing to get into the Brooklyn Academy of Arts. She wanted to bring Clary to me before Simon took her out that night to celebrate, but I refused." He sighed, closing his eyes. "I couldn't knowingly cast the spell safely any longer. It was beginning to interact with her mind and inner eye. If I kept casting it, it could cause brain damage."

Elias was silent for several minutes, unmoving. "It wasn't your fault," he said softly. "You made the right decision."

A small smile flit across Magnus face. "I certainly hope so," he said.

Elias bowed his head. There was nothing left to do here. He turned to leave, pausing at the door. He looked back over his shoulder and said, "You did. Call me if you need anything."

Then Magnus was alone with Clary.

* * *

Detective Beckett stared at her notes at her desk. It didn't make sense. The Fray's had not been home when she and Castle had visited and the shop out front had been closed. She decided to try again tomorrow and visit the boy Simon Lewis instead. Mrs. Elaine Lewis had been the one to answer the door.

 _"Hello," Mrs. Elaine said when she opened the door._

 _Detective Beckett held up her badge. "I'm Detective Beckett with the NYPD, is Simon Lewis here?"_

 _Mrs. Lewis narrowed her eyes and pulled the door closer to her, blocking Beckett's view of the entryway. "Why?" she said, studying the female detective and the tall man smiling next to her. "What do you want?"_

 _Beckett clipped her badge back to her belt and said calmly, "He's not in trouble, Mrs-"_

 _"Elaine," the woman at the door said. "I'm Simon's mother."_

 _"He's not in trouble Mrs. Lewis," Beckett said. "We just want to talk to him, that's all. May we come in?"_

 _Mrs. Lewis bit her lip before nodding and stepping aside. "Simon," she called up the stairs by the door. "Come down here, please. Please, take a seat," she said her guests, gesturing to the couch in her sitting room._

 _A moment later, a young man with mousy brown hair wearing thick rimmed glasses poked his head around the corner at the top of the stairs. He came down the stairs, texting on his phone and almost stumbled awkwardly as he went. He muttered something as he recovered his footing and rounded the corner of the stairway railing. He lifted his head when he walked past the front door and faced the people in the sitting room._

 _Instantly, his ready smile dropped from his face, replaced by fear. He gulped and tucked his phone in his pocket, keeping his hands in his pockets as if to protect it. "Uh, Mom," he said, attempting to smile and failing, "what's going on here?"_

 _Mrs. Lewis looked at her son. "That's what I'm wondering," she said, crossing her arms and giving him the look every child knew meant 'try lying to me, I dare you.'_

 _Simon coughed a laugh, literally. He tried laughing and ended up coughing. "Um, I, uh.."_

 _Beckett decided to stop the awkwardness while she could. "You're not in trouble," she said quickly. "We just want to ask you a few questions."_

 _"Oh, uh, sure," Simon said, looking around him. He snagged a chair leaning against the wall nearby and dragged it up to the coffee table so he sat across from the detective and Castle._

 _"Do you know this person?" Beckett asked, placing a photograph on the coffee table between her and Simon._

 _Simon reached out for the picture, turning it around so it faced him, took a good look at the picture, and immediately gulped, glancing worriedly at his mom. "I, yeah." He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I do, that's, um, Unc- Magnus."_

 _"What were you going to say?" Castle asked curiously._

 _Simon looked up at Castle fearfully. "Nothing." Another furtive look at his mother. "Nothing. Um, his name is Magnus Bane. He's a local yokel, if you know what I mean," he said, laughing at his own joke. He quickly swallowed his laugh when he realized he was the only one laughing and ducked his head, rubbing his neck._

 _"He's missing," Beckett said, watching Simon closely. "Some broke into his place last night and trashed it. We just want to find him. Anything you can tell us will help."_

 _Magnus looked up at her over the rims of his glasses, the faintest spark of hope in his eyes. "Really?" he asked, glancing between Beckett and Castle. "Just… You just want to find him? Y-you don't want to hurt him?"_

 _Beckett narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Why would we want to hurt him?" she asked._

 _"No reason," Simon said quickly, shaking his head with wide eyes. "I didn't mean to imply... I mean you're cops you wouldn't hurt… I mean why… I'm shutting up now." He promptly shut his mouth and clammed up tight, hunching in on himself. His hand snapped back into his pocket, fingering what was probably his pocket._

 _It sent alarm bells ringing in Beckett's head. But before she could ask anything, Mrs. Lewis spoke up._

 _"I knew that Magnus would be trouble," she said. Simon sighed and rolled his eyes but his mother continued. "I told you," she said, waving a figure at Simon. "I told you he would be trouble."_

 _"Mom stop," Simon moaned._

 _"He's a crazy hippie, that's what he is," Mrs. Lewis said. "A fruitcake." She shook her head. "All that hocus pocus about cards telling the future and those things he sells. It's a scam."_

 _"No, mom, it's not," Simon said, turning to his mother in annoyance. "Just because you don't bother to read the labels of stuff doesn't mean it's a fake. It just means you don't pay attention."_

 _"Don't talk to me like that, young man."_

 _"Then talk about Uncle Magnus like that," Simon said, eyes darkening in anger._

 _"He is not your uncle, Simon," Mrs. Lewis said. "_

 _"No, but he's a better dad than you are," Simon snapped furiously. Instantly, his face paled in horror, his eyes widened, and his mouth fell slack at his mother's hurt expression. "Mom," he said, reaching out to her. "Mom, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry."_

 _"Please excuse us," Mrs. Lewis said, standing abruptly wiping the beginnings of tears from her face. "I have to start on dinner so if you'd please…"_

 _She gestured for her guests to leave and Beckett immediately stood. "Of course," she said. "We'll call later. Simon, if you could come down to the station sometime tomorrow to make an official statement that would be great."_

 _"Yeah, fine, ok," Simon mumbled miserably. The boy looked very much like he wanted to melt into the carpet._

 _"Come on Castle," Beckett said, tugging her partner with her. Before she could turn around and says a quick 'thank you' to Mrs. Lewis for letting them in, the door was slammed shut in her face. "Well," she said._

 _"That was interesting," Castle said, turning to his partner._

 _"Yeah." Beckett stared at the door for another moment before walking down the quiet street to a main drag to catch a cab. "Kid's afraid of something."_

 _"He called Magnus 'uncle,'" Castle said, hurrying to catch up to her. "The mother clearly doesn't approve of Magnus if her reaction back there wasn't blatant at all."_

 _"I want his phone," Beckett said, stepping close to the curb on a larger street and flagging down a passing taxi. "He knows something."_

 _"And we're gonna find out what it is," Castle said with an enthusiastic fist bump to the air. He hesitated when Beckett gave him a flat look. "What?"_

 _"For that, you're riding alone." Beckett closed the taxi door behind her and said, "New York Police Department please," she instructed the taxi driver and they roared off leaving Castle flailing pathetically on the curb._

Beckett smiled at the memory and decided to call it a night. Her eyes were beginning to feel sore anyway. She needed a good night's sleep. Hopefully, Simon could fill in a few blanks when he visited the precinct tomorrow; like why he was so nervous around police officers.


	10. Morning, Afternoon, and Worry

**A/N:** Sorry. This is a bit of a longer chapter than usual I think. I'm making up for the fact that I meant to post this yesterday but literally fell asleep while writing it. ^^; Also, the first Malec should be next chapter. It was supposed to be this chaoter but stuff happened and the word count was too much. I had to stop it before it got any longer. I'll edit this tomorrow.

 **Chapter summary:** In which Clary needs some reasurrance, Simon and the police get some answers, and more bad news for everyone.

* * *

 **Morning, Afternoon, and Worry**

Clary woke up in an strange position on the floor. Oddly enough, even though she was sprawled the way she was, she didn't feel uncomfortable. Completely opposite in fact. She felt very comfortable and safe. Had she fallen out of the hammock during the night?

A shadow moved across her face and she looked up to see the hammock hanging empty and limp by the window. Her brow furrowed and she carefully unwound her legs from her curled position only to hear someone sigh by her ear. She froze and lifted her gaze to see Magnus slumped in the corner of the room with Clary all but in his lap. His face was devoid of makeup and dark circles emphasized his eyes in an unflattering way. He looked absolutely exhausted.

Clary was confused. How had she ended up here? Why was Magnus holding her? Did something happen? Why couldn't she remember? Had she been asleep for the whole thing?

She tried hard to focus on something dancing tantalizingly at the edges of her consciousness. It was right there. Somehow, Clary knew if she could just catch that fleeting thought, then she'd remember. It was so close.

 _Monsters! Fear. Pain. Mom!_

 _"I don't want this."_

 _"She won't be a child forever Jocelyn."_

 _Smoky blue, flickering, pulling._

 _Covering._

 _Ripping._

 _Blue._

 _Mom!_

"Mom!"

"Clary!"

Her gaze was suddenly filled with worried gold _-feline eyes, blue pulling-_ and she flinched away. The golden gaze Clary now recognized as belonging to Magnus vanished, replaced by hurt, glamoured brown. She fought back the bought of guilt from her uncle's reaction and leaned against his shoulder in apology.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, running a hand through her mess ginger curls.

She shook her head. "No," she admitted. "What's happening to me?" She sat up and stared at Magnus. "What... How did I get here?"

Magnus cast his eyes around his bedroom before returning to Clary's face. "You had a night terror last night," he said. "Do you remember anything?"

Clary thought back to what had triggered the deluge of images, thoughts, voices, and sensations from earlier but found it difficult to grasp anything. Her mind resisted her efforts to remember almost as if it was aware of something she wasn't.

"Just...snatches of colors," she said, trying to sort through what her mind could remember without panicking. "Something pulling. Blue." She felt the telltale panic begin to rise and stopped digging. "Nothing else."

Magnus sighed and looked away.

"Why?" Clary asked, watching her uncle closely. "Is it important?"

Magnus shrugged unconvincingly. "It depends," he said. "Shall we?" he said, quickly changing the subject and beginning to stand.

Shifting so Magnus could stand and stretch. She chuckled when she heard several gratifying pops from Magnus' back. She stood herself and rolled her shoulders, wincing from the few pops she got. There weren't many but they were intense. She also had a crick in her neck from the way it had been propped up on her uncle's chest for who knew how long.

Speaking of, she hurried over to her messenger bag and began digging through it. She had plugged her phone in to the wall outlet under the window and left her phone sitting just under the flap of her bag. Sure enough, there it sat fully charged. She unplugged it and was greeted by a lock screen filled with texts, a couple missed calls, and at least one voicemail from Simon.

"Want pancakes or are you alright with ordering out?" Magnus called from his bathroom where he was getting ready for the day.

Clary only half heard him, too focused on reading through the numerous texts with growing horror. "Wha-what?" she answered distractedly.

Magnus leaned over so his head poked out of the bathroom to see Clary focused on her phone. Curious, he closed his eyeshadow case and walked over to her. "Clary?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

Clary licked her lips before standing up and facing her uncle. "The cops visited Simon last night," she said, handing her phone to Magnus to read through. "They think he can help with your missing persons case. He's not taking it very well. They asked him to come in to the station to give a statement today."

Magnus scoffed but took the offered phone and read though the texts. The fact he had forgotten to cast a glamour over the place before he'd left was something that bothered him. He'd been so distracted that he'd clean forgot to do what Dot managed to do under much more intense circumstances.

Judging from Simon's texts, Luke wasn't in charge of his case. That was a relief for now at least. A female detective by the name of Beckett was spearheading the case. It wasn't a name Magnus was familiar with but it was worth knowing just in case. The earlier texts were frantic and confused and hurt but they steadily evolved into facts and rambling. Apparently Ms. Lewis still wasn't a fan of Magnus' magnificent self. Some people just had no taste.

"I'll look into it," he said, handing Clary back her phone. "I'm planning on contacting a friend who may be able to take my people under her protection. Also," he added with a sly grin, "I may have a date tonight. Interested in joining me?"

"A date?" Clary repeated flatly. "Now? With who?"

"Oh no one," Magnus said, eyeing his fingernails thoughtfully. He would have to change their color to match today's outfit. "Just a Shadowhunter who may or may not be able to shed some light on this situation. So I ask again." He lifted his gaze and was pleased to see Clary's moss green eyes narrowed in interest. "Care to join me?"

Clary crossed her arms and considered the offer. She swept her gaze up and down Magnus' body and sniffed. "Not if you don't put on something decent," she teased.

Magnus waved away her words. "Everyone's a critic," he said with a dramatic sigh. "I'll snag you something to wear so you'll blend in-"

"Why do I need to 'blend in'?" Clary asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Because we're meeting at a rave," Magnus said, making his way back to the bathroom to finish applying his makeup. Clary followed so he didn't have to raise his voice to be heard. "It's a Downworlder rave so we won't stand out. We can get in, take care of business, and get out with very little resistance." He paused to study the line of black along his lower eyelid. "Since it's a _Downworlder_ rave, we'll know if more Shadowhunters from either the Institute or the Circle show up."

"How?" Clary asked, sitting on the counter and kicking her feet.

"Because Downworlders don't particularly like Shadowhunters," Magnus said slowly as he applied another line of eyeliner under his other eye. "If more than a handful of Shadowhunters arrive, word spreads and the guests either leave or make things difficult for them."

Clary dropped her gaze and stilled her legs. "Elias said I was different," she said. Magnus stopped what he was doing to listen as she continued. "He said I wasn't a 'racist prick.' Are all Shadowhunters racist pricks?" she asked, biting her lip.

Magnus heaved a sigh and placed a hand on his niece's knee. "It's never a matter of all or none," he said. "It's a matter of some and more. Were all Germans Nazis?" Clary shook her head. "No, they weren't," he agreed. "But when you think of a Nazi, you think of Hitler or some stereotypical German from that era, right?" Clary flushed and nodded. "It's something we're trained to do, it's not who we are."

He set his makeup down and lifted his other hand to tilt Clary's face so they could look at each other. He smiled gently. "Not all Germans were Nazis, not all Shadowhunters are racist. But there are enough racist Shadowhunters that many Downworlders assume they're all racist. Although, again, it's mostly a matter of association. If a Downworlder only meets one Shadowhunter and that Shadowhunter is racist, then that Downworlder's perspective of Shadowhunters is less than stellar."

He ran his fingers through Clary's hair, clucking when he found knots. He reached for his spare brush and scooted his niece around so he could reach her hair behind her head.

"Elias has a personal reason for hating Shadowhunters," he said as he carefully brushed the knots out of Clary's hair and began weaving it into a messy braid. "Before you were born, there was an Uprising. A group of Shadowhunters calling themselves the Circle broke off from the Clave and began killing Downworlders for no reason other than they saw us to be beneath them."

"Your mother escaped that madness as soon as she could," Magnus continued. "I helped Jocelyn keep you safe so she could establish herself in obscurity among the Mundanes. Elias...wasn't so lucky." Magnus set the brush aside and focused on braiding. "The Circle murdered his wife. He didn't take it well. I was able to stop him from doing something stupid but he still holds no love for Shadowhunters."

As Clary sat quietly and listened to her uncle speak, the gravity of the situation began to finally sink in. "I'm a Shadowhunter," she said softly.

"But you aren't a racist," Magnus said, tying off the braid and stepping in front of Clary. He pulled her into an embrace and held her. "No one is born evil or racist. They're taught to be racist. It's a choice. You were taught to accept change and welcome differences as something to be proud of. Mundanes make up for their inability to comprehend the Shadow World by accepting almost everyone who chooses to hide among them as their own. It's not perfect, but in a way Mundanes are much further along than many Shadowhunters as far as acceptance is concerned."

He pushed Clary away so he could meet her eyes seriously. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Promise me you won't degrade yourself because some stuck up prick judges you," he said, placing a kiss on Clary's head. "Instead, prove them wrong and rub it in their snot nosed faces. Make them eat their prejudices for breakfast. I wouldn't find a dash of fabulous amiss either," he added playfully.

He counted the soft laughter from his niece a small victory. "Look," he said. "Let's go get food then calm your friend Simon down. He's going to need one hell of a pep talk before giving a statement to the police this afternoon." Clary smiled and nodded. "Don't forget we have an appointment at a rave tonight," he added with a wink, tweaking his niece's nose teasingly.

She swiped his hand away. "I'm cooking," she said, hopping off the counter. "I need something to do."

Magnus watched her go and felt an odd mix of emotions in his stomach. Pride, worry, love, and fear twisted into a knot even he wasn't sure he could untangle. He was proud of the young woman Clary had grown up to be. He worried for her safety and sanity. He loved her as the niece he could never have and he feared her reaction when she found out the truth of what he'd done to her mind.

Shaking his head, he finished applying his makeup and made his way out to the living area of his loft. Mats, blankets, and sleeping bags littered the floor. Quite simply, Magnus did not have enough beds for everyone so the warlocks in his Lair improvised. Warlocks were good at improvising. He scanned the stirring crowd and found Elias in the kitchenette watching Clary cook from a safe distance.

"Elias," he called just loud enough to be heard. The other warlock turned to him and Magnus made his way over, stepping around sleeping warlocks as he went. "I have to handle a couple things today before meeting that Shadowhunter this evening," he said.

"You're going?!" Elias said, glaring at Magnus in disbelief.

Magnus held up a hand to forestall Elias' inevitable rant. "If the jewel is what I think it is, than it could be useful beyond its sentimental value," he said.

"Why?" Elias demanded.

"It's enchanted," Magnus explained patiently. "It pulses when demons are nearby. That could be useful considering recent events, don't you think?"

Elias hunched in on himself. "You think demons will get involved in this?" he asked, hoping Magnus would say otherwise.

"I don't doubt it," Magnus said wearily. "I haven't been able to contact Ragnor since this whole madness began," he admitted with a quick glance in Clary's direction. "It's possible he's gone into hiding and the last thing he needs is for his cover to be blown by one of us blundering in asking for help." He tapped a ringed finger on the island countertop distractedly. "I was hoping he could take the warlocks in, get them out of New York. Now it seems that option's no longer available."

"What about Catarina?" Elias asked. "Is she coming?"

Magnus winced and shook his head, forehead creased with worry. "No," he said. "She's elected to stay at the hospital as long as she can."

"She'll constantly be surrounded by patients and other doctors," Elias said, placing a hand on Magnus' arm, stilling his nervous fingers. "As long as she's in public, she should be fine."

"She still needs to sleep," Magnus fretted.

"You seriously think doctors and nurses don't just drop asleep in the most random places on and off shift in the hospital?" Elias asked with a small amused smirk. "She should be fine. Besides, the chances of the Circle trying to kill her in a place like that are low. It would be too difficult. She'd be too easily missed. Not to mention the security, people everywhere..." He gripped Magnus' hand harder. "She'll be fine."

Magnus nodded reluctantly. "Then what do you suggest we do?" he asked, glancing at the warlocks just beginning to wake up.

"Well they can't all stay here forever," Elias said. "It's painting a target on your head."

"As if it wasn't there already," Magnus said snidely. He immediately regretted the quip when he saw Elias' reaction. He patted his friend's arm in apology. "I could ask Tessa but I'm not sure she'd appreciate a sudden influx of warlocks to the Spiral Labyrinth."

"Might as well. We need more shields anyway," Elias said with a shrug.

They were interrupted by the clatter of a plate piled high with pancakes planting itself firmly on the counter by their arms startling both of them. The warlocks glanced up at Clary who lifted her eyebrow at them, lips pursed. "You two worry like a couple of old bitties," she said. "Take a break and eat. I'll text Simon to set up a meet," she said to Magnus. "Any suggestions?"

Magnus shrugged. "Surprise me," he said. "Just be sure to at least try to keep us off the radar," he teased. "I am missing after all."

Clary rolled her eyes and poked him as she began to stir the mix and pour it onto the pan to make more pancakes, typing away on her phone with her free hand.

"Careful biscuit," Magnus said, drawing Clary's eye. "Wouldn't want to ruin that phone. I love the competition for fairest of them all." He grinned and winked.

Clary gave him a flat stare, activated Siri and, without breaking her gaze from Magnus, asked, "Siri, who is the fairest of them all?"

" _Clary, you are fair 'tis true but..._ " the Apple A.I. began. " _No, you are the fairest of them all_ ," is finished.

Clary snapped her fingers and swung her hips at her uncle defiantly. "Good answer," she chirped, tucking her phone and bejeweled phone in her pocket.

"Burn," Elias said, huffing a laugh. He quickly bit his lip and made his escape before Magnus could glower at him.

* * *

Simon felt horrible. He hadn't meant to yell at his mom like that. He was still beating himself up over that. He loved his mom. He knew she tried her hardest to make ends meet for himself and his sister Rebecca and he loved her with all his heart. She was his mom for crying out loud. But it hurt every time she insulted something he liked.

She had been hesitant about his befriending Clary in the beginning but she'd warmed up to Clary over time. Magnus she had never warmed up to. She tolerated him for Simon's sake but she made it very clear she didn't approve of him. She'd stopped trying to keep Simon away from Magnus because he had never said or done anything that bothered her to the extreme. He was just different. That made her uncomfortable.

But Simon had seen Magnus in his natural habitat and enjoyed the eccentric man. Seriously though, when did he get the chance to watch a full grown man bash a piñata like a kid? Never until he met Magnus. The guy had become an uncle and father figure to Simon without him even realizing it.

Now come to find out Magnus was actually a warlock who could use blue fire magic stuff and someone was out to get him and Clary? _And_ the police, or at least Mr. Luke was involved? What? Don't get him started on that Detective Beckett lady. Simon still wasn't sure what to make of her yet. She seemed nice. But then again so did Luke.

He groaned and dropped his head in his hands. This was just too much to take in all at once. He had to be at the precinct to give his statement soon, but here he sat at a small café he'd never heard of before waiting for his up till now missing best friend and uncle to show and give him some much needed advice. He could feel the gazes of several patrons in the café on his back and tried to still his nervous fidgeting. Unfortunately, that didn't last long.

He pulled out his phone hoping he'd received another text from Clary but still nothing. He checked the time and slumped so his head thunked dully on the table. It had barely been three minutes since he'd arrived and it already felt like forever. This was utterly miserable.

"Simon!"

Simon immediately sat up and zeroed in on, "Clary!" He jumped up and embraced his best friend as tightly as he could. She leaned into the hug and Simon finally felt a part if him relax.

Movement behind Clary caught his attention and he smiled slightly when he recognized Magnus. Magnus wore a simple long sleeved black silk shirt along with his usual necklaces and rings. His fingernails were also painted black and the colored highlights he preferred were noticeably absent from his hair. Magnus' pants were also black with a darker black stripe down the outer seams. Was there such a thing as a darker black? Apparently.

Simon let Clary step back but didn't let go of her hand. He stepped forward and gave Magnus a side hug. A moment later, they all slipped in the back booth Simon had chosen. It was as far from a direct line of sight from the street as possible just as Magnus had requested.

"Okay look," Simon said, taking the initiative and talking first. "I know I can't know some things, but I have to ask what the hell is going on here? I mean like, are you okay? What happened to your place? Both of your places? I mean, what's going on? I-"

"Simon," Clary said, leaning forward and gripping Simon's hand, holding it comfortingly. "Slow down. I don't understand everything that's going on. Neither of us do," he said, glancing at Magnus before returning her gaze to Simon.

"But we can guess," Magnus finished. He cast a wary glance around them, pressing his lips together in disapproval. "There are more Downworlders here then I thought there'd be at this time of day," he muttered uncomfortably.

"Downworlders? What?"

"People like Magnus," Clary said. "Warlocks, Seelies, vampires, were-"

"Vampires?" Simon gasped, quickly lowering his voice and hunching over so he all but leaned on the table. "Vampires?" he repeated quieter. "They're real?"

"Very much so," Magnus said. "Although it would certainly help speed things up if you would stop interrupting." He gave Simon a look and the Mundane blushed and sat back.

Clary nudged Magnus in the side earning a wince from the warlock which she studiously ignored. "Someone, some _ones_ broke into my house and Magnus' place and tried to kill us," she said. She held up a hand to stop Simon from speaking and forged onwards. "Or kidnap us or I don't know. That's not important right now. All you need to know is that they took my mom."

"Jocelyn?" Simon gasped. "She's gone? What about Dot?"

Magnus grimaced which wasn't a good sign in Simon's book.

"We don't know where she is," Clary said reluctantly.

"Hopefully safe in hiding," Magnus said.

"But you don't think she is," Simon said slowly.

Magnus didn't need to say anything. The answer was already clear. Neither Clary nor Magnus knew where Dot was, but they both suspected she'd been captured too.

"Simon," Clary said, taking hold of Simon's hand once more and tugging him to get his full attention. "I know this is difficult but I need you to understand something," she said seriously. "Do _not_ trust Luke. He betrayed us. Don't tell him anything. As far as he or the police know, you haven't heard from or seen either of us."

Simon gulped but nodded. "I'll delete our texts," he said nodding, "and our call history. You might want to turn off your phone for a bit too," he said.

"Why?" Clary asked.

"Because I can track you using the Find Friends app and I can't delete that from my phone," Simon said. "It's one of those preloaded things."

"So that's how you've been tracking us," Magnus murmured.

Simon shrugged awkwardly. "I was worried about Clary," he said shyly. He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. "These people who took your mom, who are they? Do you know?"

"They're Shadowhunters," Clary said. "Long story but they're this race of Nephilim who-"

"Nephilim?" Simon repeated in disbelief. "As in angels and demons?"

"They aren't exactly what most Mundanes think," Magnus said. "They are very real but they aren't the fluffy babies with wings you Mundanes so often find adorable. They're powerful. The same goes for demons which are also very real. Shadowhunters exist to hunt demons and protect the Downworlders and Mundanes from their less than friendly machinations."

"Remember that night at Pandemonium-"

"Which I own by the way," Magnus said.

"-when you thought I was talking to air?" Clary finished, throwing Magnus an exasperated glower for interrupting her.

Simon flushed. "Yeah," he muttered. "Sorry about that by the way. I thought you were high or someone had slipped something in your drink or whatever." He sat up straighter when he realized what Magnus had said. "Wait, you _own_ Pandemonium?"

Clary waved the admission aside. "Nevermind that, look the important thing is I _was_ talking to someone. You just couldn't see them because you don't have the Sight."

"The what?"

"The Sight," Magnus said. "It's something that allows Mundanes to see past glamours and the like."

"Anyway," Clary said quickly, "I saw that guy and the people he was with kill a bunch of people in Pandemonium."

Simon nodded slowly. "Right," he said, obviously not sure what to make of this. "So yeah, okay, I'll run with this for a bit. This whole Shadowhunter Nephilim thing," he said, waving a hand vaguely, "what does that have to do with Clary and her mom?"

"I'm a Shadowhunter," Clary said, her voice calm and even. She rolled up her shirt sleeve revealing the rune on her arm.

"Geez, Clary, where'd you get that tattoo?" Simon asked, stunned.

"It's not a tattoo," Clary said, pulling her sleeve down and glancing around furtively. "It's a rune. Shadowhunters use runes for lots of things."

"Like what?"

"Speed, night vision, stamina, heat, nourishment, healing," Magnus listed. He shrugged. "It's an extensive list that can and does literally fill a book."

"What does that rune do?" Simon asked, pointing to where Clary's rune was hidden.

"It prevents her from being tracked by Shaodwhunter magic," Magnus said. "The Circle wants something that neither of us know where it is but they seem to think we do." He shifted positions, crossing his legs in annoyance. "They're hunting Clary and the warlocks. We've gone into hiding. It's either that or die and quite frankly I like being alive. Death is ever so unpleasant." He plucked absently at his silver spiral ear clip.

"But that doesn't make any sense," Simon said. "Why would they want to kill you if they think you have something they want? Wouldn't they just capture you and torture you for the information or whatever? Not that I want that to happen," he said quickly. "I just, it makes the most sense."

"It is probably what they want to do," Magnus said. "But since we'll be killed whether we talk or not, you understand why it's not much of a choice."

"Ah, yeah, that would be a problem," Simon muttered awkwardly.

Clary sighed, wishing she could give her best friend better news. "Hey," she said, "we'll be okay. Just stay safe and don't tell the police anything about us, okay?"

Simon nodded. "I won't," he promised. "I didn't mean to call Luke before. I just- it was habit you know and then I saw Magnus' place and-"

"It's okay," Clary said.

"I have a question about that," Magnus said, speaking up suddenly. "What do you know about this person investigating my case?"

"Detective Beckett?" Simon asked. "Well, um, she's nice I guess. I mean, I didn't talk to her much 'cause I was too surprised by the fact she was even _there_ at all. I was kind of hoping they'd let the matter drop." He snapped his fingers. "There was this guy with her. He didn't look like a cop, if you know what I mean."

"Husband?" Magnus asked. "Lover?"

"I...don't think so," Simon said. "It seemed...professional. But again, we didn't talk long so I don't really know."

Magnus nodded but said nothing else. He tapped the screen of Clary's phone and stiffened when he saw the time. "We need to go," he said. "Clary and I will be out tonight," he said to Simon. "Don't try to track us."

"Where are you going?" Simon asked, standing up to join Clary and Magnus.

"Nowhere a Mundane like you should go," Magnus said.

"Then why's Clary going?" Simon asked defiantly, crossing his arms.

Magnus rolled his eyes. "Because it could help us find out what's going on and she's involved."

"I've also made him swear not leave my sight," Clary said primly, tossing her braided hair over her shoulder and flashing Magnus a superior look. The warlock merely rolled his eyes tolerantly. "I'll tell you what I can as soon as I can," she said seriously. "But you have to promise not to tell Luke or the cops anything."

Simon hesitated then nodded. "I promise," he said. He watched his best friend and uncle in all but blood walk away. "Be safe," he called.

Clary turned and waved, a smile on her face. Then she stepped out the door of the café with Magnus and vanished around a corner. Simon sat back down in his booth and brooded. He'd promised to wait a full ten minutes before leaving to keep some distance between him and Clary. The time passed so slowly it was almost physically painful.

When the ten minute mark finally came, he grabbed his bag and hurried out of the café as quickly as he could. He looked down both sides of the street before jaywalking to the other side and began his trek to the police station.

* * *

"Still think the kid's clean?" Esposito asked, lowering the camera and turning to his friend.

Ryan gave his partner a flat stare and lowered the binoculars shaking his head. "This complicates things," he said with a huff. "If this Magnus guy isn't really missing, then why's the kid being so secretive about it?"

"Unless he's involved," Esposito offered, starting the car's engine and pulling out of their parking spot. "A pretty girl and a guy he respects asking for help?" He shrugged and pulled into traffic. "I mean, look at Castle. If Beckett asked him to jump, he'd ask how high. Ten bucks says that happened here."

Ryan waved in agreement. "Then what about the apartment?" he pressed. "What kind of tool could have cut up that door like that and singed the wood? Unless there's some power tool out there that does that that you know of, I'm coming up empty."

Esposito sighed and shook his head. "Okay so it doesn't completely add up, I'll give you that," he admitted reluctantly. "But that doesn't change the fact that the kid is involved and I'll bet you it's cause of that girl." He groaned. "Pretty girls man."

"They'll be the death of us," Ryan moaned.

They drove in silence before Ryan perked up when his phone rang. "Detective Ryan," he said. He suddenly sat up, snapping his fingers to get his partner's attention. "Right, right. Got it. On our way there now," he said before hanging up.

"What is it?" Esposito asked.

"Another report of a break-in," Ryan said, tucking his phone in his pocket. "It's the Fray place," he said seriously, "and there's blood this time."

Esposito shook his head flipped the siren and lights on. "Damn. This just keeps getting better and better," he muttered before stepping on the gas and speeding through traffic to get to the newest addition to their growing number of crime scenes.

* * *

Magnus didn't feel it until he stepped out of Taki's Café. But when he finally did feel it, it was like a punch to the gut. He just knew. It was an instinctive knowledge that flooded his senses, tugging his magic then releasing it entirely. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to settle himself before summoning a Portal in the alley nearby. The glamour he cast would hide him, Clary, and the Portal from anyone without the Sight but he had to stay focused to maintain it.

When they emerged back in his Lair, he patted Clary's shoulder and brushed briskly past her ignoring the odd look she shot at his back. He grabbed Elias' arm and all but dragged him into his study, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Hello to you too," Elias said, surreptitiously rubbing his arm where Magnus had grabbed it. His demeanor shifted when he took in Magnus' lack of composure. "What is it?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Magnus took a deep breath, pulling himself up so he stood at his full height. Elias was taller than Magnus by several inches but Magnus had a way of appearing taller than he was. Right now, even standing tall, Magnus seemed smaller, unsure. It wasn't something Elias liked. What Magnus said next wasn't something Elias particularly liked either.

"Dot is dead."


	11. Negotiations

**A/N:** I'm posting this because of this high demand for Malec. The first sighting is at the end of this chapter.

 **Chapter summary:** In which Clary plays with runes, Simon makes a new friend, the Shadowhunters negotiate, and Magnus is smitten.

* * *

 **11: Negotiations  
**

Clary had felt relatively good after her meeting with Simon. It was a relief to know her best friend had her back even in all this craziness. But now she wasn't sure how she felt. The way Magnus had acted when they got back to his loft was odd. He seemed distracted, lost. He'd made a beeline straight for Elias than locked the both of them up in his study.

If she hadn't known better, Clary would've thought that the two were going to work off some stress. But she'd seen the two warlocks interact and it didn't seem like they were together. Far from it in fact. They both maintained a careful distance from each other even when they were close. Yet they trusted each other enough to feel comfortable in close proximity and tease one another. It reminded Clary of her relationship with Simon in a way.

Normally, thinking of Simon would have calmed her, but it didn't now. She had the distinct feeling she was being left out of something important, again. She pursed her lips and walked right up to the door and tried the handle. It was locked.

"Magnus," she called. No answer. "Magnus open this door right now," she commanded. Again no answer.

She huffed in indignation and crossed her arms. How dare he. She was a Shadowhunter and had just as much right to know what was going on than...

She was a Shadowhunter. Shadowhunters used runes. Magnus had a book of runes which he had conveniently left in his bedroom. She could use the practice.

Decided, Clary hurried into Magnus bedroom and plucked the Gray Book from his bedside table. She flipped through the many pages of runes bemoaning the fact that they weren't in any particular order. Honestly, did those Shadowhunter people ever hear of a Glossary for crying out loud? At least they had the translated meanings for each rune scrawled at the bottom if each page beneath the rune.

One rune in particular caught her attention. It was shaped like a stylized 'P' with elegant streaks crisscrossing the curved part. 'Recall' was written in perfect handwriting under the rune. It wasn't what she wanted but it...

Something.

She couldn't tear her eyes away from it. It just...

 _"Luke no."_

 _"You can't...lying...Jocelyn...killing you."_

 _"...can't tell her...too dangerous."_

 _"She's a Shadowhunter. ...take it..."_

 _"...she...father...Valentine..."_

She jerked back from the book, almost dropping it. She'd somehow leaned closer to the Recall rune on the page to the point her nose almost brushed the paper. She shook her head, trying to make sense of the voices fading from her mind. She couldn't remember hearing those words said before but she recognized the voices. They belonged to her mother and Luke. Something about her father.

Her father was dead. He'd been in the military and died before Clary was born. It was an ache she had never gotten over but had learned to live with. She had more important things to worry about right now, though. Like getting into Magnus' study.

She flipped through more pages until she finally found a rune that could be useful.

"Unlocking," she mumured.

Thankfully, it wasn't an overly complex run compared to some of the other runes she'd seen in the Gray Book. She propped he Book up in one hand and walked out of the bedroom into the living room until she stood directly in front of the locked study door. She took a deep breath and pulled her stele out of her pocket.

The Unlocking rune wasn't something that made sense to be drawn on her skin, but maybe it would work if she drew it directly on the door. Or perhaps the lock itself would work better, she thought. She crouched down and carefully copied the rune exactly as it was in the Gray Book onto the lock leaving searing black marks. The marks glowed red hot briefly and Clary had a moment of panic thinking she'd done it wrong or made a mistake and would permanently damage the lock surface. But not a second later, the lock snicked open and she grinned victoriously.

She stood, grasped the doorknob with the hand still holding the stele, pushed the door open with her shoulder and walked right into the study. She was met by twin expressions of shock from both Magnus and Elias.

"Now," she said, closing the Gray Book and tucking it under her arm, "what did I miss?"

Elias blinked awkwardly from where he stood holding a ruffled looking Magnus who had been thrown forward when the door he'd been leaning against suddenly opened. Magnus straightened and brushed himself off as if nothing had happened. Both warlocks attempted to recover their thoroughly bruised egos.

"I should never have shown you that Book," Magnus grumbled, fixing his hair.

Clary flashed him a stunning smile. "Well you did leave it on your bedside table," she chided. "Honestly, if you didn't want me to use it, you should've just told me so."

"Like that would've worked."

"It wouldn't have," Clary declared. "But you would've felt better and enjoyed lecturing me because I actually did something you told me _not_ to do. Since you never said anything, you can't lecture me."

"You still broke into my study," Magnus said in frustration.

"I wouldn't have had to if you had just brought me with you," she countered. "I'm just as much a part if this as you and I will not be shut out like a child."

"You are a child," Elias said, confusion evident on his face.

"And yet I'm the only one standing here demanding transparency in a matter that concerns all of us," Clary shot back. "I may not be an adult like mom yet, but I am legally an adult which means I expect to be treated like an adult. Don't baby me."

Elias raised his hands in surrender, then pointed to Magnus. "His idea," he said.

Clary turned to Magnus and waited impatiently for an explanation. Magnus, however, was too busy staring at Elias in shock.

"Traitor," Magnus huffed, crossing his arms.

"Magnus?" Clary said. "I'm waiting."

Magnus' shoulders drooped and his amusement faded. "I wanted to find a way to tell you that wasn't..." He bit his lip. "Dot is dead," he said bluntly.

Clary's bravado vanished replaced by shocked disbelief. She felt the Gray Book slip from her grasp. She stumbling back when Elias dove forward and snagged the tome before it struck the ground. She gulped and clutched her stele like a wand. Her green eyes lifted to Magnus' glamoured brown. She must have looked horrid because Magnus sighed and gently took her hand in his, running a thumb over her palm.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Clary nodded, fighting back the sobs that threatened to rip from her. She couldn't stop the tears, but she brushed them away angrily. "I will fucking murder whoever's responsible," she growled viciously. "I will get my mother back and I will murder that sick son of a bitch."

Magnus raised an eyebrow at his niece's choice of words but shrugged them away. It wasn't like he would have said or done any different had he been in her position. Still.

"As the adult in this room I have to say I don't approve of that kind of language," Magnus said loftily. "As your uncle I have to say I absolutely agree and I'll hold them down while you rip their throats out." He winked which startled a chuckle from Clary.

Elias rolled his eyes. "You're both crazy," he muttered just loud enough for them to hear. "I'm going to get ready to head to the Spiral Labyrinth. Try not to bring down the place while I'm gone," he said.

"No promises," Magnus called at Elias' back. The other warlock shook his head and stalked out of the room. "Now my clever little niece," he said, facing Clary. "You want a crash course on runes? I'll give it to you. I expect you to draw a few somewhere on your body in preparation for tonight anyway."

Clary nodded feeling a combination of anticipation and worry. "Which ones?" she asked.

"Speed for one," Magnus said. "Invisibility, for two. Also the Protection rune, the Angelic Power rune, and that should be good for now. You don't want too many runes too soon. We don't know how you'll handle that many applied at once."

Clary nodded and held up her stele. "Ready when you are," she said.

* * *

Simon sat awkwardly in the interrogation room. At least it was a bit airy which nice. It wasn't as intimidating as the interrogation room where Luke worked. He gulped. Here, sunlight streamed through the blinds cover the window. Blinds were drawn over the other window facing the hallway and the door too. Simon lifted his head and winced at his reflection in what he assumed was a two-way. Then again, there was another mirror behind him.

He'd finished writing his official statement a couple minutes ago but no one had come to pick it up or check on him. He'd just been left in here with nothing to do and it was driving him nuts. Fed up, he decided to pass the time by conducting the fingernail test on the mirrors. He'd figure out which mirror was the real two-way mirror and yell his frustrations out at that one.

He pressed his finger against the glass on the mirror behind him and saw a gap between his real fingernail and the reflected fingernail. That meant this was a real mirror. That left the other mirror across the table. He swallowed and circled the table to press his finger against that glass. There was no gap between his real fingernail and the reflected fingernail.

"Hey," he said to the people on the other side of the mirror. "I know you're back there. I finished my statement thing. Can I go now?"

No answer.

"You can't keep me here," he said, holding his arms out. "I haven't done anything wrong."

The door suddenly burst open and a blur or red fluttered through. "Sorry, sorry!" the person said.

Simon whirled around to face the door in surprise. "Wha-"

A red haired girl who had to only be in high stood by the door holding a finger over her lips indicating silence.

"I'm hiding," she whispered.

"What?" Simon asked, sure he hadn't heard right.

"Hiding," the girl repeated.

"Why?"

"I'm not really supposed to be here," she said, shrugging. Long ginger hair a few shades lighter than Clary's tumbled over the girl's shoulders in perfect waves. Her eyes were such a pale shade of blue Simon wasn't sure if they were actually light gray or light blue.

"Okay, then why are you here?" Simon asked, not really understanding what this whole thing was about.

"I'm hiding from my dad," the girl said with a grin. "The detective lady just got a call to go to a crime scene and I figured if I made myself scarce for a bit, I could sneak out to a rave tonight at this bar near Chelsea." She gave Simon a thumbs up. "Worth a try right?"

Simon chuckled. "Yeah. I know what you mean."

The girl stiffened when voices passed right by the interrogation room windows. Simon recognized the voices as belonging to Detective Beckett and that guy from the night before. Simon gulped and sent up a prayer that they would just keep walking and forget he was here.

He dug his phone out of his pocket and quickly opened the Find Friends app. He knew he'd promised not to but I he couldn't just let Clary be out there alone. He had to check for his own personal peace of mind. Crossing his fingers, Simon picked Clary's icon and waited for the map to load. A sigh he didn't realize he'd been holding escaped in a rush when he saw Clary's icon pop up somewhere by the eastern shore of Manhattan Island near...Chelsea.

He memorized the street names of the place and closed the Find Friends app to look for the same location in Google Maps. It was some bar called Hardtail.

"You know," he said, thinking this over. "I just finished writing my statement," he said, waving to the papers on the table, "and I'm actually heading to this bar on the Island. It's this place called Hardtail." Cool Simon, stay cool. "Mind walking out wi-"

"Seriously?" the girl exclaimed. "That's where I'm going!"

"Really?" Simon asked, smiling broadly. "Wow, okay what a coincidence." Not, he thought scratching his neck. "Look, I have a car if you want a ride there. No pressure if you prefer to walk or catch a cab or whatever," he said quickly. "Just, you know, offering."

"No, that'd be great," the girl said. "You're a lifesaver."

Simon chuckled. "I'm Simon, by the way," he said, extending his hand.

"Alexis," the girl said shaking Simon's hand firmly. She didn't see Simon wave his sore hand when she turned around to peak out the door. "Look's like the coast is clear," she said, flashing him a smile. "Let's get out of here."

They walked out of the interrogation room trying to appear as unassuming as possible. Alexis glanced around as if expecting her father to appear out of nowhere. It would have been funny if Simon hadn't already been nervous. "So," she said, attempting small talk. "You're going to the rave dressed like that?" She eyed Simon's clothes doubtfully.

"Oh, no," Simon said quickly. "I'm picking my friend up from there. I'm the DD." Nice cover Simon.

"Nice," Alexis said. "What was the statement for?"

"Oh, uh." Think fast, think fast, think fast. Wait, why lie? "Someone I know was robbed and the cops think I may have seen the guy that did it so..." He shrugged. "Yeah."

Alexis bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet as she waited for the elevator to arrive. "What'd they steal?" she asked when an awkward silence fell between them.

"We don't know yet," Simon said. "He lived above a store so definitely some cash from the register but, uh, otherwise don't know."

Alexis nodded. "Come on, come on, come on," she muttered, glancing over her shoulder.

The elevator dinged and they both leaped inside and pressed the door close button as fast as they could. When they finally got to the ground floor, the both hurried outside, Simon walking quickly to his bright yellow van. He held the door open for Alexis to sit in the passenger seat then ran around to the driver's seat and pulled away.

"Nice," Alexis said, giving Simon a high five.

Simon smirked. Not bad, he thought to himself. Now to find Clary.

* * *

He was so bored, he felt like puking. The sun was setting so most of the Daylighters were beginning to trickle out of the club but the music just got louder. He could literally feel the beat in his gut. Was that normal? How on earth had Izzy convinced him to come along?

He glanced down at his little sister who was impeccably dressed in a dazzling silver sequined dress with a matching silver and crystal headdress draped over her perfectly straight hair. Her makeup was flawless and she was working those four inch heels. In was inhuman. How could anyone wear deathtraps like those things that dared call themselves shoes and feel comfortable? It made no sense.

"Maybe if we're nice, think he'll let us keep it?" Isabelle hummed, petting the huge ruby dangling from her neck.

Alec rolled his eyes. "Stop drooling over it and give it hear," he said, holding out his hand.

Isabelle sighed and pouted at him. "But it looks so pretty on me," she said, sticking her lower lip out pathetically.

Alec just stared at her, hand out, and waited. Finally, Isabelle huffed and unhooked the necklace, dropping it in her brother's hand. "Killjoy," she grumbled, smiling as she spoke to take the edge off the words.

Jace snickered earning him a deadpan glower from his _parabatai_. Jace just shrugged, looked around innocently, then pointed at himself. "Aw, you noticed me," he said, a wide, teasing smile brightening his face.

Alec had to look away to fight a small smile of his own from appearing on his face. He stuffed the necklace in Jace's jacket pocket, pushing his brother playfully back as e shrugged his own bow higher up his shoulder. "You have our invitations, Izzy?" he asked, hoping the subject change would shift the focus away from him.

"Right here." Isabelle waved the three colorful flyers up so Jace and Alec could snag theirs. "Don't ask questions," she said, "don't look the doorman in the eye, and please try to keep your mouths shut. Jace."

"Why me?" Jace whined.

Isabelle stepped up the doorman and presented her invitation with a flourish. When the vampire looked up at her, she winked over her shoulder with a sultry smile and he waved her past. He moved to stop Alec, but found an invitation slapped in his face. When he lowered it another one filled his vision. When he pulled that one away, he shot a glare at the two male Shadowhunters' backs and grumbled. It wasn't his business. They had an invitation, they could get in. He'd just let the other patrons know to be on the safe side tonight. Just in case.

"Keep an eye out for Magnus," Jace said once they stepped out onto the dance floor.

"I'll be on lookout," Alec said, making his way over to a staircase up to the mezzanine where he could have a bird's eye view of the club. From up there, he could pick out threats and get rid of them easier with his bow.

"Izzy?" Jace said. He waited until his sister turned to him before continuing. "You're up."

She smiled, fluttered her eyelashes at him, and flowed through the crowd like liquid sex. Even Jace knew when to admit when she was hot. This was where Isabelle fit in. She could dance and move and flirt and breathe like the other people in this place without raising any suspicion at all. This was her realm and she knew it.

Alec crouched down in a ready position at the top of the stairs watching the bodies move like an endless wave of black and flashing lights to a beat that vibrated the building's foundations. He just knew his ears would be ringing for a while after this. He drew a single arrow and knocked it on his bowstring, keeping it in a relaxed grip, ready to draw and fire at a moment's notice.

He followed his sister and Jace with his eyes as they made their way through the crowd to the back of the club. Alec stood and walked across the mezzanine to the stairs on the far side. The Downworlders standing between him and his goal took one look at him and moved out of his way. They knew a Shadowhunter on the hunt when they saw one. Alec paid them no mind. Instead he studied the crowd below for anything even remotely suspicious.

A flash of red hair by the bar captured his attention and he focused on it, dismissing it a moment later when he saw the hair's owner. It was a girl but she was younger than he remembered the Shadowhunter girl they were chasing, Clary, to be. This girl had to only be in high school. How she made it past the doorman was beyond Alec. He just rolled his eyes and returned to tracking his siblings again, thus missing a familiar brunette boy bob between the bodies right behind the redhead.

By that time he had reached the back wall of the club and had to go down a couple of the steps of the stairs in the corner to catch sight of Isabelle and Jace again. Now he just had to sit and wait. Typical. At least he had a good view of the majority of the dance floor from here. Of course, it'd be a bit more tolerable if that cute new kitten was still in his jacket pocket.

* * *

"They still haven't shown," Clary said, leaning against the table's edge.

She was careful to keep her long, pale legs together. The tight black dress Magnus had gotten for her had a diving neckline and stopped perilously close to her butt. She had to stop herself from tugging the hem down further over her thighs. There was a reason she usually stuck to pants even during the hot months. She forced her hands to toy with the purple stone dangling from her necklace instead. Its smooth surface and deep amethyst color was comforting. It was also the last thing her mother had given her before tossing her through a Portal.

"Relax," Magnus said, crossing his legs in his seat and leaning back.

He was the perfect image of calm and collected, minus the constant rapt attention he paid to the crowd around them. He had chosen a table by the back wall so they could see anyone approaching. It was a good choice. Now if only someone would actually approach them that'd be great, Clary thought.

She caught herself fiddling with her dress hem again and sighed in defeat. "I'm sick and tired of all this waiting," she said. "I just want this to be over. I want my mom back." Her eyes narrowed hatefully. "And I want the sick bastard who murdered Dot to die."

Magnus chortled glancing at her in dark approval. "Easy kitten," he teased. "Talk first, kill later. Killing first disrupts the appetite."

Clary chuckled despite herself.

"Magnus!"

"Showtime," Magnus said, uncrossing his legs and standing in one smooth move. Clary stood too, taking her place at her uncle's side as an equal. "Shadowhunters," Magnus said greeting their guests.

The two Shadowhunters who walked up to Clary and Magnus couldn't be more different if they tried. The female was the personification of feminine beauty. Her lips were a luscious red, her skin a tantalizing tan, her hair a shiny ebony, and her dress a startling silver. She was beautiful and Clary suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious.

The male was tall, well built, and handsome. Strangely, the word 'golden' came to mind. The man's blonde hair and molten amber eyes stood out starkly against his black clothes. Everything about him was attractive, until he opened his mouth.

"Magnus Bane," the blonde Shadowhunter said. "You've been a bitch to track down."

Magnus gave a lazy smirk that never reached his eyes. "Always happy to oblige," he said. "But I believe it was," he turned his attention to the lovely Shadowhunter woman, "this young lady who contacted me. Not you."

The woman smiled and it was sensual as fuck. Clary sighed and briefly wondered what it'd be like to be interested in women. The blonde Shadowhunter looked pissed when Magnus dismissed him but the woman preened under the attention.

"I did," she said. She held out her hand and waited for her partner to drop a piece of silver jewelry into her hand which she then dangled in front of Magnus. "I believe you want this," she purred.

Clary watched Magnus' eyes fill with desire as he made to swipe the swinging gem from the Shadowhunter's hand. But the woman brought it back, bouncing it tauntingly, and dropped it between her breasts. "Talk first," she said. "Can't give up my only leverage first, you understand."

Magnus hesitated, eyes lifting from where the woman had dropped the necklace to her eyes. "Fine, but only after I've verified its authenticity," he countered with a sly grin.

The woman drew back, a hand resting delicately over her breasts. "You doubt my sincerity?" she asked in mock offense, a smile still playing on her lips.

"Trust no one, my dear," Magnus said, matching her grin with one of his own.

"Not even you?" the woman asked, eyeing him from under her thick eyelashes.

"Especially not me," Magnus said.

The woman breathed a laugh and pulled the jewel out from its place between her breasts holding it out to Magnus. "Authentic," she said, "and warm." She winked and Clary blushed.

Magnus took the jewel and flipped it over so the inscription on the back was visible. _Amor_ , it said.

"Amor verus numquam moritur," Magnus breathed, studying the necklace appreciatively.

"Is that Latin?" Clary asked, leaning over to study the jewel curiously.

"Indeed," Magnus said. "It means 'True love can never die.'"

"Your turn, Magnus," the blonde Shadowhunter said, cutting Magnus off. "Talk. What's going on with the warlocks? And why is a Shadowhunter with you?" he added, casting a cursory glance at Clary.

Clary hated him.

"That 'Shadowhunter' doesn't like your attitude," Clary snapped.

The blonde man blinked, as if surprised Clary could speak at all. She deliberately ran her eyes up and down the male Shadowhunter's body and sniffed in disdain before turning away, dismissing him entirely. That certainly ruffled his feathers. Perfect.

"She's with me," Magnus said, winking at Clary playfully. "She's free to go when and if she wants to. But don't worry," he said. "It's not your fault my company is in higher demand. I guess I just have more charm than you do. Don't take it personally. Hardly anyone is as charming as I am."

The Shadowhunter woman was pressing a hand over her mouth and trying incredibly hard not to laugh out loud. Her shoulders were shaking and her face was turning red from the effort. The blonde, however, was staring at both Magnus and Clary dumbstruck.

"As for the warlocks," Magnus said, turning to more serious matter. "The Circle is hunting us. They want the Mortal Cup which, as I'm sure you know, is missing. For some strange reason, they seem to think we can help them find it. They've already murdered several of my people under my watch alone."

"They took my mother," Clary said, tossing a strand of ginger hair over her shoulder with a jerk of her head. "They murdered Dot and kidnapped my mother. Unless you can help me get her back, than you're useless to me."

"The Circle hasn't been active in years," the Shadowhunter woman said cautiously. "Why would they act up now?"

"Why do idiots do anything?" Magnus said with a heavy sigh. "Because they can." He paused, studying both Shadowhunters' reaction carefully. "Then again, since Valentine is back, I suppose they just decided now was as a good a time as ever."

"Valentine is dead," the blonde said, sounding unsure of his own words.

Magnus snorted. "Like hell he is. The Clave may have officially declared him dead, but the Downworlders have known for a while now that he is very much alive. Granted we had no solid proof, but I think those 'Demonic Murders' the Mundanes have been dealing with for the past month or two was proof enough."

"The Circle is behind those?" Clary gasped, whirling on Magnus. "How long have you known?"

"Suspected is more like," Magnus said. "Valentine had a penchant for experimenting with and mixing blood with different races during the Uprising. I'm sure you understand how unpleasant that is," he said, eyeing the blonde Shadowhunter.

"It's against the Accords," the woman said darkly.

"Well that explains who those demons were peddling the Mundane blood to," the blonde said, crossing his arms thoughtfully.

"Demons?" Clary asked.

"Oh, now she talks to me?" the blonde asked and Clary instantly rolled her eyes.

"We've been tracking a group of Eidolon demons who've been peddling Mundane blood in various clubs," the Shadowhunter woman said. "We tracked a group to Pandemonium hoping to find out who was buying it-"

"But she interfered instead," the blonde interrupted, shooting a glare at Clary.

"Yeah, sorry for not dying," Clary sniped. Surprisingly, the blonde immediately backed down.

"Look," he said. "We just want to know what's going on."

"Join the club," Clary said glumly.

She sighed and looked absently out to the crowd when she noticed a mop of what looked like brown hair. "Simon?" she murmured in confusion. Something bright and quick to her right caught her attention. She had just enough time to holler "Look out!" and yank Magnus back before an arrow zipped through the air inches from Magnus' face piercing the neck of the would-be assassin.

Magnus, caught off guard by the unexpected movement, stumbled into Clary before catching himself on the table. Together, he and Clary turned to see the fallen person clutching his throat where a bloodied arrow sprung up like some sick flower. Clary stared at the dying man while Magnus retraced the arrow's trajectory and saw a dark and devastatingly handsome young man stalk right past him and up to the gurgling man. The vaguely noticed the other two Shadowhunters drawing their own seraph blades, but they were of no importance. The young man with the wild black hair thrusting the arrow deeper into the assassin's neck, killing him, had Magnus' full attention.

"Who are you?" he breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from the angel before him.

He had a moment to notice the young man had a Deflect rune drawn on his neck before a sinking feeling settled in his stomach. The young man who had just become the focal point of his lustful desires was a Shadowhunter. That could be a problem.

"Magnus are you okay?" Clary's voice broke through his clouded mind and jolted him into action. He quickly composed himself, opened a Portal to his Lair, and pulled his niece towards it.

"Oh no you don't," the blonde Shadowhunter called, snagging Clary's arm and tugging them back. "You're a Shadowhunter. You belong at the Institute."

"My Lair can offer her protection your Institute can't," Magnus hissed. "Besides, the Circle found us. If they found us, then I have to get back to my Lair."

" _We_ need to get back to your Lair," Clary said forcefully, aiming a hot glare at the blonde. She promptly stamped her high heeled shoe right where she figured the arrogant blonde's big toe was.

"AAH! What the hell bitch!" the guy screaming, reeling back and clutching his now throbbing foot.

Clary just sneered and used the opportunity to run straight into the Portal dragging Magnus behind her.

* * *

Jace just shrugged in annoyance still rubbing his sore foot. Isabelle willed her whip back into its bracelet form and shook her head. "We'll have to track him," she said. "You still have that photo Alec?"

"Yeah," Alec said, pulling the picture out of his breast pocket.

"Let's do it outside then," Isabelle said, already turning to walk out. "Fewer people and fewer rats." She shot a disgusted look at a rat that skittered across the floor by her feet and left, her brothers following after her, one limping and the other walking normally.

* * *

He waited until the Shadowhunters were gone before stepping forward and scooping up the terrified rat.

"You just couldn't stop drinking, could you?" he asked, not expecting an answer.

The rat squeaked pathetically and struggled to escape his grasp, scratching at his unnaturally pale skin. He just rolled his eyes. "Oh shut up," he muttered.

He stuffed the rat in his coat pocket and stalked out the back of the club. He'd make sure the drunk idiot he just saved from getting stepped on paid for any damage done to his brand new jacket once they got back to Hotel DuMort.

"I hate dealing with fledglings," he griped.


	12. Silent Witness

**EDIT 5/15/2016:** If anyone's posted reviews for this chapter and the previous one, I've received the emails for them but they've been removed from this story. I'm not sure how or why. I haven't done it and I'm confused as to what's going on. If anyone knows, please tell me. That'd be greatly appreciated.

 **A/N:** Sorry for the delay. The Castle gang took over the majority of this chapter but don't worry. The main Shadowhunter teams will return next chapter. Promise. Part of it is already written. ^_^

Also, the unnamed character speaking at the beginning of this chapter is NOT an OC. He is a canon character who will be named later on.

 **Chapter summary:** In which Dot's death is witnessed, the Castel gang investigate the Fray home, and Castle is a master storyteller.

* * *

 **12: Silent Witness**

e wept for her because someone had to. He hadn't known her for long and a part of him suspected he was at least partially responsible for capturing her, but she had been nice to him when he'd woken up in confusion. His first clear thought at the time had been disorientation. He recognized the cage he currently sat in. It was what he usually saw these days when he was lucid and had almost become a safe haven of sorts.

But this time, he wasn't alone. She'd been there. He could tell she was a warlock from her warlock mark: leathery wings that were broken and useless on the floor behind her. It must have been hard hiding them with a glamour all the time. Her magic was probably too low to keep them hidden any longer. Her hair was brown, matted with dried blood, and hung lank around her too pale face. Sweat dripped down her face as fearful exhaustion clouded her eyes.

He just barely make out a puncture wound on her throat and felt himself wilt. She probably wouldn't make it, just like the others who came before her. But at least he had someone to talk to for a short while. He didn't know how long he had before his next dose drove him back into oblivion. It wouldn't be long though. It never was.

She hadn't trusted him at first. She refused to speak so he spoke until he had no more words left. It was nice to talk to someone who would listen, even if they didn't have much of a choice.

Finally, she started talking too. She said her name was Dot. She'd been captured trying to help a friend escape. He admired Dot's bravery and sacrifice and told her so. He kept to himself the thought that it hadn't been worth much. The woman Dot had tried to protect now hovered in cocoon of green magic not ten feet from their cages.

After a while, they fell silent and he'd let his eyes drift shut. When he'd opened them again, it was to the sharp clang of metal. He boinked blearily and saw the warlock woman Dot sneaking out of her cage. She'd gotten out? How? Somehow Dot had managed to muster just enough magic to escape, but she didn't run like he expected her to. He sat up and watched her. She stared at him when she saw him move, fear evident in her face. She must have expected him to scream and give away her escape.

He wouldn't.

After a tense few seconds of silence, Dot slunk over to the hovering woman in the magical green shroud and whispered to her.

"I know you can hear me," she'd called softly to the woman. "Clary is safe. She got away. She'll be okay, I promise."

Clary? Who was Clary? His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps. "Dot!" he coughed weakly.

She turned to him, her face contorting in terror when a Shadowhunter rounded a corner and saw her free. The man grabbed her by the hair and slammed her against the table of vials and syringes. She cried out and sobbed in pain, struggling against her attacker.

He couldn't help her from his prison. He could just watch helplessly as the Shadowhunter began strangling her. But somehow Dot stabbed the Shadowhunter in the neck with a syringe crippling her attacker. He watched her crawl across the floor in a desperate last attempt to get away when the man he - _hated!_ \- loved arrived. Valentine.

He couldn't help but lift his gaze and scoot closer to the bars, staring at Valentine, the man responsible for the mishmashed emotions roaring inside of him, in horrified awe. The soft white glow of a seraph blade lit the room before disappearing in Dot's body, killing her slowly.

He shuddered and swallowed hard over his dry throat. He could still hear Dot's screams in his head even after she had finally fallen silent and her body thudded limply on the floor.

"Awake I see?" Valentine said, turning to him. The man smiled and approached his cage, stepping over the dying Shadowhunter and picking up another syringe from the table as he did so. "Hear anything interesting?" he asked casually.

He shook his head and gazed longingly up at Valentine. "Don't do this," he whispered, his voice raw and weary. "Please."

Valentine merely smiled, grabbed his collar and yanked him flush against the cage bars thrusting the syringe needle into his throat. Tears leaked from his eyes as the substance burned through his veins like a physical blow making him dizzy and disoriented. It hurt but he had long ago learned better than to scream. It wouldn't be long before the darkness consumed him again. Valentine gave him a comforting pat on the head, chuckled, and returned to the table of chemicals.

The last thing he remembered was the floor racing up to meet him.

Then darkness.

* * *

When Kate Beckett ducked under the yellow crime scene tape, she immediately noticed the puddle of blood in the middle of the small green space that served as a patio. The wrought iron gate creaked in a breeze behind her giving the whole place an eerie atmosphere.

"That's a lot of blood," she heard Castle say as he stepped up next to her.

She nodded. Whoever this blood belonged to probably didn't live very long afterwards. She looked up to the building ahead of them. There was a small antiquities shop on the first floor and the Fray's loft on the second floor. It was a similar setup to the Bane place. She nudged Castle and strode into the building when she caught sight of Detective Esposito through the window.

The inside of the building was strikingly similar to the Bane place as far as the mess was concerned. "This doesn't look good," she said, eyes taking in the debris.

"It's not," Esposito said, walking up to her. "You should see the apartment upstairs. You think the Bane loft was bad." He whistled lowly. "One of the rooms was burnt and there's blood spatter everywhere."

Beckett turned to Castle who's usual excitement at the prospect of a new story was replaced by depressed silence. They both knew this would most likely end badly. "Alright," Beckett said, preparing herself for the worst. "Show us what you got."

Esposito nodded and turned to walk purposefully over to the stairs. "The first floor is trashed," he said. "Whoever did this was looking for something. It wasn't all just for the sake of causing mayhem."

He stepped out of the stairwell to what appeared to be a spacious, open floor plan loft with large windows and light colored wood and brick walls and cabinetries. Had it still been daylight, Beckett was sure the windows would have lit the place very well.

"This way," Javier called from a dark hallway on the other side of the stairs.

Beckett and Castle walked down the hallway and noticed the blood splattered across the walls and floor.

"This is where the action happened," Esposito said. "Can't tell definitively without a blood spatter expert, but it looks to me like a serious fight broke out. My guess is the Frays fought back and then booked it out of here fast."

"You think they're still alive," Beckett said, meeting her friend's eyes with interest.

"I know the daughter, Clarissa Fray, is alive," Esposito said handing his superior a camera. "Ryan and I tailed the Lewis kid and guess who he went to meet?"

Beckett took the camera and scrolled through the pictures, eyebrows rising to her hairline when she recognized the Fray girl and none other than-

"Is that Magnus Bane?" Castle asked, pointing to the dark haired man walking into the café with Clary. The next picture was a bit hard to make out through the café windows but Kate could still see Simon hugging both Clary and Magnus. "Well well well. Somebody's keeping secrets," Castle said in a playful tone, regaining his usual giddiness.

"When were these taken?" Kate asked.

"Literally right before Ryan and I got here," Esposito said. "Bane and the Fray girl left first then Simon left ten minutes later."

"Did you try to follow them?" Castle asked curiously.

The detective gave Castle an exasperated look. "Course we did. Ryan got out and followed them on foot," he said. "But get this," he said, looking back to Beckett, "he said they turned into a dead end alley and vanished."

"Vanished?" Beckett repeated.

"Yep. That's what he said." Esposito shrugged. "You can ask him yourself if you want. He's in the room at the end of the hallway." He waved to the room at the far end that several forensics techs walked out of.

"We'll do that, thanks." She handed the camera back to Esposito and made her way down the hall towards the bedroom.

"Did you hear that?" Castle asked excitedly. "Vanished." He made a barely contained giggle of excitement. "Books, Tarot cards, mysterious mixtures sold in small glass vials, a strange man who can string along an artist and a goody two-shoes nerd. You know what that means? Magic."

"Magic?" Kate deadpanned, tossing a flat stare over her shoulder at the writer trailing after her.

"It makes sense," Castle defended. "How many stories have you read or movies have you seen where the good kids meet someone who's just a bit odd and introduces them to Tarot or a ouija board or something like that and _poof!_ Plot happens?" He rolled his shoulders proudly. "Slightly overused trope but still interesting."

"Whatever Castle," Kate said barely containing an eye roll. "This is the real world. There is no magic in the real world, just human nature."

"That you know of," Castle countered with a wink.

Kate groaned and stepped into the bedroom. She was immediately caught off guard by the sight. Esposito had told her a room had been burned but she didn't realize he actually meant burnt almost to a crisp. The walls were blackened from soot and burn scars. The bedspread and once colorful curtains were now threadbare and singed. Hardly anything was left untouched.

"What happened here?" she breathed.

"A small contained fire," a petite woman with brown skin and black hair tied back in a ponytail said. She stepped around Castle and Beckett so she stood in the room.

"Hey Lanie," Kate said. "Thanks for coming."

"Don't worry about it," Lanie Parish, the medical examiner, said. "I've got the lackeys getting swabs of the blood and anything we can use shipped back to the lab for analysis."

"We may need it," Ryan said, dropping a hair from the hole in the floorboards into a plastic evidence bag, sealing it tight. He handed the bag to Lanie as he stood. "Whatever burned in here was serious."

"It was a concentrated blaze," Lanie said stepping carefully around ash covered floor. "It burned hot and fast. From the looks of it, I'm surprised it didn't spread to the rest of the apartment. It should have but it didn't. It burned here around the bed area," she said, indicating the remains of a mattress and bedposts, "spread to the rest of the room, then just...stopped."

"Did someone put it out?" Kate asked.

Ryan shook his head. "Not that we can tell," he said. "There's no fire extinguisher foam, no water, no way to cut off the oxygen..." He shrugged helplessly. "I've got nothin'."

"Well hopefully I won't have nothing once I get back to my lab," Lanie said, looking back at the wall by the window. She brushed some ash away with her gloved hand. "There's something drawn on the wall under the soot. Hey Kevin," she called to Detective Ryan, holding out her other hand. "Give me an evidence bag, please."

"Sure."

She took the offered bag and scraped the soot into the bag. "Did Javier get the pictures?" she asked.

"Yep. Do want you want," Ryan said. "That okay with you?" he asked his superior.

Beckett nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Don't let me stop you."

Lanie waved and began scraping the soot off in earnest, careful not to damage whatever was drawn on the wall beneath. "What do you make of this?" she asked, pointing to the now uncovered symbol.

"What is it?" Kate asked, taking out her phone to take a picture of the symbol.

"No idea," Ryan said. "Never seen it before."

"Neither have I," the medical examiner said thoughtfully.

"I'm telling you," Castle said in a sing-song voice. "Magic." The three experts all shot him a look of disdain. Castle just shrugged. "Give me a better answer," he challenged.

None of them could. The strange looping symbol reminiscent of a down-pointing arrowhead wasn't something that they could easily forget. Come to think of it-

"Actually," Ryan said, turning back to the symbol and pointing to it as if trying the grasp a memory. "I think I have seen this before. Yeah," he said, warming to the subject. "It was spray painted on the Lewis kid's van. Hey Jav!"

"Yeah," came the answer from the hallway.

"Come check this out." Detective Ryan waited until his partner poked his head into the room before speaking again. "Remember this?" he asked, pointing to the symbol.

Javier's forehead crinkled for a moment then cleared. "Oh yeah. Simon had that on his van. Think it means something?"

"Now that," Castle began, stepping up to the wall for a closer look, "is interesting."

"This can't be a coincidence," Kate said. "Esposito, call the office and check if Simon's still there," she ordered. "He was filling out his statement when Castle and I left I think. "

"Will do." The Hispanic detective pulled out his phone and dialed the precinct as he walked down the hall to be heard over the ruckus from the forensics team.

"We need Simon back there as soon as possible," she said, turning back to the symbol on the wall. "This looks hand drawn," she murmured, reaching out to brush her fingers over the art. She turned around to study the room more closely. "And the decorations in here are young; too young to belong to a mother."

"Didn't Detective Garroway say something about Clary Fray being an artist?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah," Kate murmured. "He said she was accepted to the Brooklyn Academy of Art."

"So not just an artist, but a _good_ artist," Lanie said, studying the symbol again with more appreciation now.

"If this was Clary's room," Castle said thoughtfully, "and she was alive what? An hour ago? With that Magnus guy?" He whistled. "The plot thickens."

"Is this a gang sign?" Lanie asked.

Ryan hummed and shook his head. "Doesn't look like any I've seen," he said. "But I'll check with Organized Crime just in case. See if they recognize it."

"It could be a cult thing," Castle offered after a moment. He refused to shrink back when everyone in the room gave him a chorus of doubtful stares. He raised his hands and said, "Think about it. A man moves into the apartment just down the way," he began. "He's nice, good with kids, a bit odd but nothing more than the average Mother Earth mystic type person. He's eccentric and different which attracts the local youth. They flock to him because he doesn't judge their oddities and out-of-the-norm preferences. He accepts them, welcomes them, befriends them, makes them feel special. Maybe introduces them to a few things. Nothing serious." He pauses. "At first."

"Over time, he draws them in like moths to a flame." He has them. "They become loyal to him, and only him, to the point they defend him to anyone who slights him." They're his. "Even a loving mother who just wants her children to be safe. But he has plans, things to do, and he needs his new followers to help him." His audience. "His cult is small, but it's a family. Everyone loves one another, everyone cares for one another, everyone..." He smiles. "Protects one another. Then it comes time for him to leave. He's been here too long anyway, there are more places he has to go, more people, more young people he needs to bring under his wing. They would all leave together."

"It was supposed to be a smooth break," he continues. "But something happened. Something he didn't anticipate. Someone discovered him. Someone who hates him. Maybe a parent of another child he took under his wing. Maybe a rival. Maybe he decided to break away from the cult to strike out on his own. Maybe the cult leader doesn't like such a charismatic underling and the bright young followers he drew in leaving. Whatever it was, our eccentric uncle is forced to flee taking his followers with him. But they can't go all at once, they have to spread out an-"

"And then the dread Cthulhu rises from the deep and slaughters everyone in their sleep," Esposito said strolling back into the room.

Instantly the mood is lost. Javier smirks in fond amusement as his partner Ryan blinks in bewilderment. Kate Beckett has a mildly annoyed expression on her face and Lanie merely rolls her eyes.

"Really?" Castle exclaimed to the detective. "I was just getting to the good part."

"You had me going there for minute," the medical examiner said, shaking her head.

"Yeah," Beckett said, eyeing Castle flatly. "Let's focus on the facts not fiction." She gave the famous author currently serving as her partner The Look and he wilted under it.

"Sometimes fiction is more interesting than facts," Castle said with a shrug, nursing his bruised ego.

"Well I deal with facts, not fiction," Beckett said, "and in my experience, reality is often stranger than fiction."

"I still say magic is a perfectly good explanation," Castle said matter-of-factly, straightening his jacket.

Kate rolled her eyes and shared a frustrated look with Lanie.

"Men," Lanie lamented with a fond smile.

Esposito straightened, his smirk falling. "What?" he asked. Lanie raised an eyebrow at him and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "I just called the office and Simon's gone," he said, turning his attention back to his superior after a quick glance at the medical examiner. "He left an hour or so ago."

"Do we know where he went?" Beckett asked attentively.

"No."

"Alright, we need to find him," she said taking charge. "I need some answers."

"Alexis may still be there," Castle said suddenly, pulling out his phone. "I'll call her and ask."

He speed dialed his daughter and waited patiently for her to pick up, but she never did. It rang and rang until it finally went to voicemail. Strange. He shot her a text. No response within the usual thirty seconds. Two more unanswered calls and voicemails later and the worried father opened the Find Friends app. Alexis icon appeared near the docks in the meat packing district of Manhattan Island.

"Why...?" he murmured. "Hey Kate," he asked as they stepped back out into the cool night air. "Do you know where this is?"

He held out his phone for the detective to see the icon's location. He wasn't sure what to make of the expression that crossed her face. "Club Hardtail," she said. "It's a bar and dance club. A local biker gang is based there." She shook her head. "It's not the best place to go alone although I hear they throw some popular parties."

"Hardtail, what?" Castle studied his phone screen in disbelief. "Oh Alexis, you are in trouble."

Beckett smirked. "Need a ride?" she asked, nodding to the phone.

"If you don't mind," Castle said. "If she thinks it's okay to sneak out, then it shouldn't be a problem to be escorted back."

Beckett snickered and twirled her keys around her finger before climbing into her car. "This should be fun."


	13. Hunts and Drugs

**A/N:** I have to crash now because I have work tomorrow. I'll edit this tomorrow when I can.

 **Chapter summary:** In which the Shadowhunter trio walks into a fight, Magnus moves, and Alexis is tripping...maybe.

* * *

 **13: Hunts and Drugs**

Once they got outside, Alec barely had the chance to take out his stele before Jace held out his hand. He handed the photograph to his _parabatai_ who already had the tracking rune drawn on his hand. Jace hand the photograph, closed his eyes and focused on the photo's owner. After several seconds trying to fight past what were probably shields and wards set up by Magnus, Jace shook his head in frustration.

"I can't do this alone," he said. He held out his hand to Alec. "Help me out here."

Alec stepped up and clasped his hand around Jace's and added his energy to his _parabatai's._ Isabelle kept quiet, letting her brothers do their thing. She knew better than to interfere with tracking. Her siblings needed to focus all of their thoughts on the photograph which left them vulnerable. It was Isabelle's job to protect Alec and Jace and that's exactly what she would do. She felt the electrum laced serpent bracelet come alive and slither down her wrist to its whip form ready to be used.

Thankfully, she wouldn't need too use it tonight. Jace shook his head, blinking back to himself and grinned. "Got it," he said, slapping his brother's arm. "Let's go."

A small smile teased Alec's lips at his brother's enthusiasm as he followed Jace. He activated his speed rune and caught up with Jace just as Isabelle passed him. He picked up his pace and together they raced through the streets to Magnus' Lair. It was a fair distance on foot and hitching rides on unsuspecting vehicles to get from eastern Manhattan to Brooklyn and they were a bit out of breath by the time Jace slowed down and began studying his surroundings more closely. Alec and Isabelle slowed down to stand by his _parabatai_ as Jace studied the warehouses around them.

"That's it," Jace declared, pointing to the warehouse nearest the street.

He jogged across the street behind Jace and slipped through the main door. Once inside, they all drew their weapons. Alec held his bow at the ready as he snuck across the dark room. The soft glow of his siblings' seraph blades illuminated the immediate area but nothing else. He was about to suggest Jace pull out his witchlight when Isabelle spoke.

"This is wrong," she whispered, her eyes flickering around warily.

"What do you mean?" Jace asked, pausing in his steps as if anticipating an attack.

"This was too easy," Isabelle said, raising her blade to a defense position. "We should have seen at least one ward by now."

Alec blinked. She was right. Magnus was _the_ High Warlock if Brooklyn. A warlock of that power level wouldn't have his or her Lair so vulnerable. Why didn't Alec realize that earlier.

"She's right," he murmured. "Stay together," he ordered. "Don't let anything split us up. We'll have to-"

He was cut off by a sharp cry of pain from a platform on the far end of the warehouse. Worn down skylights illuminated the far side just enough for the Shadowhunter siblings to catch a brief glimpse of a figure tumble from the ledge. Alec had to fight back the urge to wince at the wet thud the body made when it impacted the ground. He refused to follow the body with his eyes, choosing instead to lift his bow and fire an arrow at the person responsible for the senseless murder. It was then he noticed the murderer's weapon, a seraph blade.

"It's the Circle," he said.

"Oh god," Isabelle breathed, eyes wide.

She bolted ahead, her sparkling dress a streak of silver in the darkness just bright enough for her siblings to follow. He fell to her knees by the crumbled body and knew instantly the man was dead. He was an older male warlock with gills on his neck just under his chin. His unseeing eyes were wide and staring up at nothing in pained horror. Isabelle didn't bother closing them. She had to make sure more warlocks didn't die the same way.

"We have to find Magnus," Alec said.

"And Clary," Jace said, twirling his sword before racing ahead with Alec and Isabelle at his heels. There were no shields or wards up around the Lair so the main door was visible and hanging open for them when they turned the corner. The entrance was hidden behind a dilapidated stairwell. Protective magicks would normally make the door appear to be nothing more than a crumbling cinder block wall, but with the wards down the door stood out starkly from the gray monotony of the warehouse. It was slashed and broken inwards.

Alec rushed inside behind Jace, hurrying up the dark wooden staircase of the High Warlock's Lair. He dodged the remains of a female warlock sprawled on the steps, her throat slit. A child's scream is heard from somewhere upstairs and Alec pushes past his _parabatai_ and into the room at the top of the stairs. The room is long and open and littered with dead bodies, some warlock some Shadowhunter.

A warlock with dark skin and black hair stood by a Portal anchored to the window doors leading to what was probably a balcony. He was firing bursts of crimson magic at any Shadowhunter who came between him and a warlock attempting to flee through the Portal. One horn poked out from his forehead above his right eye but a bleeding indent was all that was left of the horn that would have been over his left eye. The blood was streaming down his face, probably blurring his vision. That must have been how he'd missed the Shadowhunter creeping up on him from his injured side.

Alec lifted his bow and fired at the back of a Shadowhunter about to slash the warlock holding open a Portal anchored to the window doors. The arrow struck the Shadowhunter's spine, killing him instantly. The warlock blinked his wide, dark eyes in shock, whirling to the doorway. He tensed when he spotted Alec and his siblings. Dark crimson sparks leapt from his fingertips as he prepared to attack.

"Alec, find Magnus," Jace called, activating his speed rune and launching himself at the nearest Circle member. He would protect the Portal as best he could. He deflecting his assailant's seraph blade with his own. "I got this."

"Sure you do," Alec muttered.

The warlock maintaining the Portal stared at the new arrivals in wide eyed wonder, obviously confused by their actions. Alec didn't have time to dwell on that though. He ducked a seraph blade, holding his bow close as he tumbled across the floor to a set of wood and red accented double doors that led to a bedroom. He righted himself into a ready crouch and looked back over his shoulder.

He relaxed when he saw Isabelle lash out with her electrum laced whip, the silvery cord looping around the Circle member's throat, and sling the bastard into the wood and brick wall. However, the Circle member never struck the wall alive. A streak of bright red flashed between Alec and Isabelle from the room that both he now crouched in front of.

It was Clary and she was wielding a seraph blade of her own. Alec barely had time to blink before the Circle member crunched against the wall and toppled headless to the floor. He lifted shocked eyes to Clary and saw her blade dripping with Shadowhunter blood. Clary's face was twisted in fury as he stood tall and fierce by Isabelle's side.

A child poked her head out of the room and Alec felt something cold settle in his stomach. It was a warlock child. Clary had killed the Circle member defending a warlock child. That alone was something very few Shadowhunters could claim what with warlock children being so rare nowadays. It had been Clary,the new Shadowhunter who had leapt to the child's defense, slaughtering her own kind in the defense of another. It was clearly something she wasn't used to if the faint fear reflected in her eyes was any indication. But it was something she would do.

Standing next to Isabelle, Clary was a fierce angel in her black dress and wicked frown. She and Alec's siblings could handle themselves from here. He turned and set out to find Magnus. He stalked into the room next to him, mildly surprised to discover it was a rich bedroom with an out-of-place hammock dangling loosely from the ceiling by the window. He gave it a cursory look and left it when he realized the room was empty.

He stepped back out and hurried to the door on by the front entrance where Clary and Isabelle fought. The warlock child whimpered and skittered away from him, gripping Clary's dress in fear. Alec ignored her and kicked the wooden door down. He stalked inside and raised his bow to attack. A well dressed warlock was currently circling a bloodthirsty Shadowhunter, carefully keeping several arm lengths between them. The warlock's back was to Alec, blocking his target. Alec was a great shot, but he couldn't risk the warlock making a sudden move and stepping into his arrow's path. So he waited.

"You were hard to find," the Shadowhunter said, eyes fixed on the warlock in front of him. "The warlock bitch we caught didn't talk so we had to use... _other_ methods to track you down." He grinned.

"Burn in hell," the warlock hissed viciously, firing a burst of smokey blue flame at the Shadowhunter who dodged it nimbly. The warlock yanked down what was probably a heavy bookcase with his magic hoping to crush his attacker beneath it, but again the Circle member dodged it.

"Says the demon," the Shadowhunter taunted with a sneer. "You know, it was your friend back there who gave you up." He nodded towards the main room of the loft and Alec gripped his bow tighter. "He held out for a while before I stole his warlock mark."

The warlock blocking Alec's view tensed in what Alec assumed to be shock. "Elias?" he gasped.

The Shadowhunter grinned and licked his lips. "Nice eyes," he said, lifting his blade. "I look forward to their addition to my collection."

"You're sick," the warlock snapped.

The warlock crouched as if preparing to attack and Alec took his chance. He released his arrow over the warlock's shoulder piercing the Circle member's thigh. The disgraceful Shadowhunter cried out and stumbled back, grasping the bolt protruding from his leg in agony. The warlock moved his hands is an elegant pattern before thrusting them forward sending a ripple of blue tinged energy into the Shadowhunter, crushing his rib cage almost flat, killing him.

"Well done," Alec said impressed. He glanced over his shoulder to the main room and was relieved to see his siblings and Clary lowering their weapons. The battle must be over.

"More like medium rare," the warlock he'd just save quipped smartly. Alec blinked in surprise and turned his gaze back to his temporary companion.

Dear Raziel above, help him and keep him safe from temptation because _that ass._

Too little too late.

The warlock in front of him turned gracefully around and Alec was stunned. The warlock was gorgeous. Calm down Alec. Breathe. Now is not the time. The warlock smiled and Alec couldn't help but smile back.

"That's the second time tonight you've saved me with one of your well-timed shots," the warlock said.

"S-second?" Alec stuttered in confusion. It _was_ confusion. That was the _only_ reason. Honest.

The warlock's smile grew and Alec gulped. "It was you who got rid of my would-be assassin at Hardtail, was it not?"

Oh. _Oh!_ Oh angel. This was "Magnus Bane."

Magnus winked playfully. "The one and only," he teased. He waited for something and Alec felt awkward. What was he waiting for? "And you are?" Magnus asked after a moment.

Oh! "Alec," he said, almost spitting out the word.

"Well Alec," Magnus said, stepping closer -oh god closer- and lifting an eyebrow. "Would you care to join me out there?" he asked, gesturing to the common room. "I find dead bodies to be a bit of an eyesore. You understand."

Alec nodded even though he did not understand. He understood nothing. He could barely think straight because was that sandalwood and incense he smelled?

"Alec!"

He stiffened, snapping back to reality. He swallowed and deliberately turned his back to Magnus in his hurry to get back out to his siblings, to safety. He could feel Magnus step up beside him even without Clary looking over to the spot right next to him in relief.

"You okay?" she asked, walking up to Magnus with worried eyes.

"I'm fine," Magnus said. He looked down to the warlock child still clutching Clary's dress and knelt to the little girl's level. "Are you alright, my dear?" he asked gently.

"Daddy..." she mumbled, tears spilling from her eyes.

Alec watched sadness fill Magnus' expression as he held out his arms for the little girl to hug him. He held her tight, lifting her up and propping her on his hip. It made him look slightly ridiculous but he obviously couldn't care less. He looked around the room at the damage and death until his eyes settled on the still open Portal and the person standing guard by it.

"Elias!" he gasped, pushing past Alec and Clary to his friend's aid. He snapped the fingers of his free hand and blue flames appeared. He pressed his magic to Elias' bleeding forehead and the bleeding stopped. "I'm so sorry, my friend," he murmured. "I should have listened to you."

Elias, bless him, said nothing. He just hung his head and let Magnus heal him. "Thirteen got out," he said dully.

Magnus felt like someone had sucker punched him. "Thirteen?" he sighed in despair. "Only thirteen?"

"Some died when they arrived," his friend said softly. "The rest died afterwards." He winced when Magnus pulled his hand away and the bleeding stopped. "They tried to...make us talk. If I hadn't... I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad," Magnus said, staring at Elias sternly. "You made the right choice." He hummed thoughtfully, and glanced at Zoe in his arms. The little girl was trembling and sobbing into his shoulder. He had failed her. He had failed so many of his kin. "Does this still go-"

"Yes, it dies," Elias said wearily. "But not for much long," he admitted reluctantly. "I'm struggling to keep it open."

Magnus nodded and gently set Zoe down on the floor. "Zoe dear, I need you to do me a favor please," he said. He placed a steadying and on Elias' wrist when his friend wobbled tiredly. Zoe nodded and Magnus cupped her cheek with his other hand. "I need you to go through this Portal. A friend of mine is on the other side. Her name is Tessa. She'll take good care of you," he said. "You have my word."

"What about Daddy?" she whispered and Magnus felt his heart break.

"I'll try to send him after you as soon as I can," he said, brushing Zoe's cheek with his thumb. "But you need to go now. Elias," he lifting his gaze, "you too. Go." Elias shook his head. Magnus stood to face his friend squarely in the eye. "That was an order Elias. Go."

Elias shook his head again. "'M not leaving you," he said, his words beginning to slur.

Magnus pressed his lips together and huffed. "Zoe, go through. Now. Hurry!" The little girl hesitated only a second to wave goodbye to Clary before darting through the Portal. Magnus counted to five just to be sure before grasping Elias' shoulders to get his attention. "She went through," he said. "She's safe. You can let go now."

Elias staggered then his eyelids fluttered shut and he collapsed weakly into Magnus' arms just as the Portal vanished. "Clary help me," he called. A second later, his niece was at his side, helping him ease Elias to the floor.

Then another set of hands joined theirs. He looked up curiously and saw the archer Alec pick up Elias' semi-conscious body and carry him over to one of Magnus' dark leather couches. Magnus followed and knelt by his friend's side. "You did well," he whispered. "Thank you."

Elias met his gaze tiredly then his eyes drooped shut and his labored breathing eased. Magnus felt Elias' pulse and breathed a deep sigh of relief to find it steady and regular, just a bit too weak for his personal liking. He stood and turned to his new guests suspiciously. It was the same trio of Shadowhunters from Hardtail.

"How did you find my Lair?" he demanded, crossing his arms and glaring at them.

Clary stayed kneeling on the floor by Elias' side, watching the scene unfold. She only stood when the blonde Shadowhunter stepped forward holding out a picture. "We found this at your place," he said.

Magnus reached out to snatch the picture from the Shadowhunter's grasp and glared furiously when it was yanked from his reach. "Give it back boy," he hissed.

"Finders keepers," the blonde said.

Magnus fumed, fighting down the urge to burn the arrogant Shadowhunter to ashes.

"Then it's mine," Alec said, yanking the photograph from the blonde's hand. "Seeing as I found it and all."

Magnus practically shook with fury. It took a massive effort to bite back words of blazing magic and calm down. Therefore he was stunned to find the picture handed back to him. He took it and stared at Alec in disbelief. The young Shadowhunter blushed and stepped back.

"We're not your enemy," Alec said simply.

Magnus nodded slowly, tucking the picture in his pants pocket next to his phone. "We can't stay here," he said suddenly, moving to the windows. He pulled the doors to his balcony shut and latched them. "Clary, make Elias' doesn't roll. The rest of you," he said loudly to the other Shadowhunters, "hold on to something."

"Why?" the blonde asked, grabbing hold of one of the columns nearby just in case.

"We're moving," Magnus replied. He snickered when he saw the female Shadowhunter's eyes widen. He waited until she darted over to the couch where Elias lay and joined Clary on the floor. Alec strode over to the same column as the blonde Shadowhunter and held onto it with white knuckled hands.

With a smirk, Magnus released his magic. The blue smoke seeped into the very foundations of his Lair like roots of an enormous, thriving tree. When he felt every inch of his Lair was within his grasp, held it tight and yanked. Blue magic filled the room, dragging through space to a different place. He had his preferences but he let magic ultimately decide on the new location for his Lair.

He felt his magic settle on a building by overlooking the water. It drove into the foundations of the building and rooted his Lair on the top floor, binding it there as firmly as a Lair could be. He applied fresh wards and shields to his Lair, hiding it from anyone without the Sight and protecting it from any unwanted guests aside from those already in it. Only when he was absolutely satisfied did he let go and allow his magic to fade.

The view was lovely, much better than that wall across an alley where his Lair had been. Better yet, no one knew of this new location. That meant the Circle hopefully could not track him. Yes, this would do nicely.

* * *

Alexis stood sat on the curb outside Hardtail club with her phone in her hand. She had stopped looking for her friends who were supposed to meet her here a while ago. She was too busy trying to take note of everything she was feeling and thinking right now, analyzing it again and again. She never let her drink leave her hand. She'd even made sure to watch the bartender pour the drink straight from the spigot. Nothing had been put into it and it hadn't left her hand or her sight the entire time she'd had it.

The boy who took her here, Simon, had also grabbed a drink that she was sure hadn't been laced with anything. Granted it was an odd color, but she'd learned alcohol could be in many different colors. Blue was hardly unusual. That meant something had to have been in the drink already before it had even been poured into one or both of their cups.

Or maybe it had been in the cup and not the drink itself. What if someone laced her cup then the alcohol had just dissolved it so she wouldn't notice it? That was a possibility. It certainly was better than any other explanation she could think of for what she'd seen.

She really wanted to text her dad but she was also afraid of what he'd do. She had snuck off to a party at a less than reputable bar just to hang out with her friends. Her fake ID sucked but it had still gotten her entrance and a drink. She gave a shaky sigh as she realized she was back where she'd started. Drinks.

Something had to have been in her drink. How else was she supposed to come to terms with watching Simon contort in on himself and shrink in size until a rat sat on the stool where he'd been just seconds ago? That was, she checked her phone, thirty minutes ago and she still couldn't wrap her head around it.

She'd heard her fair share of drunk stories but none even remotely included seeing someone go from a human to a rat right before her eyes. She felt her fingers speed dial her father, consequences be damned, and hold the phone up to her ear.

"Alexis," she heard her father say. "And where might you be this lovely night?"

He knew. "Dad?" she said, her voice shaky.

"Alexis?" Her Dad's voice wasn't lighthearted and teasing anymore. "Honey are you okay? I'm almost to you. Can you wait a couple more minutes?"

Alexis nodded then remembered he couldn't see her. "Yeah," she said. "Um, I think someone slipped something in my drink," she admitted, shuddering as she fought back a panic attack. "I don't know what but I think I'm... I think I'm hallucinating."

"We're almost there," her Dad said. Bless him. "Beckett's with me and we're almost there. Stay right where you are, okay sweetheart?"

"Dad?" she said, feeling her heart pound in her chest when the very welcome sound of a police siren wailed into range. "The guy I was with," she licked her lips, "he turned into a rat. I _watched_ him turn into a rat. He just... He was a human and the. He was a rat. Dad what os going on? What's happening to me?"

A police car skidded to a stop right in front of her but she was shaking too hard to notice it until a pair of warm, familiar arms embraced her and held her close. Dad. She clutched at her father's jacket, shaking and breathing hard. She felt slightly dizzy and realized she was hyperventilating.

"Get her in the car," she heard Beckett say.

"I'm here, honey," her dad said gently, picking her up and carrying her to the car. He slid them both into the back seat of Beckett's car and they drove off. "We're going home," he said. "I won't leave you, I promise. Just relax, honey. It's gonna be okay."

"He was a _rat_ ," she gasped. "And that guy... He's dead."

"Dead?" Beckett asked seriously. "Who's dead?"

"The guy with the glowing sword," Alexis mumbled, pressing her hands to her ears. "He's a rat and the sword glows."

"I'm going to take her to a hospital," Beckett declared, switching her siren on and turning around. "If there's a drug in her system, we have to he sure she didn't overdose."

"Overdose?" Alexis gasped, terrified.

"No, no," her Dad said, pulling her close and rubbing her back. "You didn't overdose," he said calmly, running his fingers through his frantic daughter's hair to help keep her calm. "We're just going to help get the drug's out of your system, okay?"

Alexis nodded. "Oh my god," she whispered. "Simon's a rat."


	14. It's Not Brain Surgery, Exactly

**IMPORTANT:** If anyone wants to leave a review for this fic, please do it via PM. For some reason, any and all reviews posted here for the past several chapters aren't showing up. I can't reply to them or even look through them. The only way I even KNOW I get a review is from the alert email I receive every time a review is posted. But the reply link doesn't work and when I go to see the review in person, it's been removed.

So please post reviews to me in a PM. Sorry for the inconvenience but I want to be able to reply to them. ^_^

 **A/N:** This was supposed to be up last night but I simply was too tired to do it. I went to a business conference for people I work with and ended up seeing something I can never unsee. I'm still recovering...

 **Chapter summary:** In which Magnus gets help cleaning up and Clary learns about her mind.

* * *

 **14: It's Not Brain Surgery...Exactly**

 _"I need you to do this."  
_

 _"You're not helping her, you're deceiving her."_

 _"Please do this."_

 _"I refuse."_

 _"Have mercy!"_

 _"I refuse."_

 _Smoky blue fire, pulling in her head._

It was the same. Almost. Close enough. She knew it was the same.

The twin clouds of blue smoke cradled in the palms of Magnus' hands, the glittering blue fire that enveloped her uncle's loft, the _pull_ as they moved, it was all the same. Something had happened to her. She was sure of it now. It wasn't just flashes or broken dreams. It was real. And her Uncle Magnus was involved.

She released a shuddering breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding when the thrum of magic settled down, retreating into the floorboards and walls. She shifted to stand when she paused and stared slack-jawed at the view outside the loft's windows. The New York City skyline sparkled across the river shadowed by the looming Brooklyn Bridge. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

"How did...?" she started, pointing weakly at the window.

Magnus smiled. "Warlock," he said easily. " _High_ Warlock," he added with a wink. "It has its perks." He turned to his semi-welcome guests, eyeing them suspiciously. "Well, since you're all here, you can start working. Pretty boy," he said, snapping his fingers, "grab the healing potion from my study please."

The blonde Shadowhunter stood from his dazed crouch by the column and looked around him briefly before starting towards the study door. Clary saw her uncle's brow crease in confusion.

"Excuse me," Magnus called, stopping the blonde. "What are you doing?"

The blonde hesitated, looking around him bewildered. "You asked me to get your healing potion?" Even though it was worded as a statement, the tone was clearly that of a question.

Magnus rolled his eyes. "No, you assumed I was talking to you," he said. "I was talking to you," he said, turning to the dark haired Shadowhunter still crouched by Elias.

Alec started and lifted wide eyes to the warlock in shock. "Pretty boy?" he mouthed, pointing to himself.

Magnus' grin grew. He placed his finger under Alec's chin and gently urged him up so he stood. "I gave you a chore, pretty boy," Magnus said playfully. He nodded to his study. "Off you go."

Alec hesitated, blinking as if caught in headlights, before making his way to the study. He barely noticed Jace's eyes following him in disbelief and Isabelle's knowing smirk. Clary, however, noticed her uncle staring approvingly at the retreating Shadowhunter's ass. When Magnus caught her eyes she pursed her lips and lifted an eyebrow suggestively. Magnus just shrugged, an unrepentant expression on his face.

Then his face sobered when he focused on Elias' unconscious form on the couch once more. He sighed. "Arrogant one," he said to the blonde, earning him a glare."

"It's Jace," the blonde Shadowhunter snapped.

Magnus ignored him. "Start gathering your dead fellows and put them in a pile there," he ordered. Jace fumed but obeyed. "You, dear lady," Magnus said to the female Shadowhunter.

"Isabelle," she said, holding her hand out daintily.

Magnus smiled, took it, and planted a polite kiss on her knuckles. "I hate to ask such a gruesome request of such a flower, but I'm afraid it must be done," he lamented. "Gather the warlock bodies please," he said, his eyes sad, "and bring them here by the coffee table."

Isabelle's smile faded and she nodded sadly. "I will," she said. She squeezed Magnus' hand and went off to do her duty.

"Clary," Magnus said, drawing his niece's attention, "help me with Elias."

Clary nodded, shifting on her knees so she faced the unconscious warlock. "What do you need?" she asked.

Magnus snapped his fingers and blue smoke billowed from his palms as he ran his hands inches above Elias' still form assessing the damage done to his friend. He grimaced. "It's not too serious," he said, breathing a sigh of relief. He lifted his eyes when Alec returned holding a small glass phial of mint green liquid. "Ah, thank you Alec."

He ignored Clary's unladylike snort and took the phial from the handsome Shadowhunter. He popped the stopper and gestured to Elias. "Lift his head, please Clary," he asked.

He waited until Clary cradled Elias' head gently so it tilted upwards before gently parting Elias' lips and dribbling the mint green potion into his friend's mouth. He took care to wipe the dribble from Elias' dark skin when he finished. He nodded to Clary indicating she could lower his friend back down.

"Thank you," he said.

"You can pay me back later," she said.

When Magnus gave her a startled look, she met his gaze with her own. Whatever Magnus saw in Clary's gaze made him wilt. He nodded and, with one last look at his still unconscious friend, stood. "So," he said, regaining some of his usual flamboyance, "why are you here?"

"What we told you at Pandemonium was true," Isabelle said, carrying the corpse of the female warlock from the stairs and laying it carefully on the floor at Magnus' feet. She tossed her long black hair over her shoulder and sighed. "What we didn't say was that we followed you," he nodded to Clary, "back to your house. Unfortunately, you were gone by the time we got there."

"Wait, you went to my house?" Clary gasped.

Isabelle nodded but it was Jace who answered. "We had to," he said like it was obvious. He dumped the Circle member's body unceremoniously on the floor. "That's where you went. Course, by the time we got there, the place was trashed and everyone but that demon was gone."

"Demon?" Magnus said sharply. "What demon?"

"Shapeshifter," Alec said. "It took the form of a woman. Fooled them," he said, shooting a disappointed look at Jace and Isabelle.

"But not you," Magnus said, a smile creeping across his face once more. Alec nodded, a faint blush in his cheeks. "Beauty and brains," he hummed pleasantly. "Will wonders never cease?"

The blush intensified and Clary bit her lip. She noticed Isabelle doing the same and caught the woman's attention. He flicked her eyes between Magnus and Alec and lifted her eyebrows in question. Isabelle gave her an "oh yeah" look and Clary had to bow her head to hide the laughter fighting to escape her.

"We also checked out your place," Jace said, seemingly oblivious to the innuendos going on around him as he and Isabelle continued to gather bodies. "Didn't know you liked living like a Mundane," he said, making it sound like an insult.

Clary shot him an annoyed glare. "I was raised as a Mundane," she said. Jace stared at her in shock and she gave her hips a sassy shake. "Got a problem with that?"

Jace gaped like a fish. "How... How did you... Why?"

Clary sighed and rolled her eyes. "Because some of us actually have taste," she said, lifting her nose in the air.

A faint and high pitched sound fluttered from her uncle and Clary snickered in amusement. She had long ago accepted her uncle's oddities, including his unusual penchant for tittering like a girl. The Shadowhunters, however, were not. Isabelle and Jace had paused in their actions to stare at Magnus in cautious amusement. Alec had a stunned expression on his face, a faint smile twitching his lips.

Oh dear, Clary thought. The poor boy was besotted.

"Is this all of them?" Magnus asked after clearing his throat awkwardly.

Isabelle shook her head. "There was a warlock body on the floor of the warehouse where your Lair used to be," she said. "The Circle killed him before we could get to him."

Magnus closed his eyes and nodded. "I'll Portal back there and pick him up," he said.

Isabelle shook her head. "No, I'll go," she said firmly. "We failed to help him. We should be responsible."

Magnus studied her curiously before nodding. "Very well," he said. "By the warehouse stars, correct?" Isabelle nodded and he opened a Portal behind him. "Bring him back to me, please."

The Shadowhunter drew her seraph blade and stepped boldly through the Portal. When she returned, Magnus had knelt by the dead warlocks and was closing their eyes and kissing their brows. She waited until he opened his eyes before nudging him aside so she could lay the body of the male warlock in her arms next on the rug. Magnus took one look at the warlock and covered his face with his hand.

"Adham," Clary whispered. She rested a hand on the back of her uncle's neck and squeezed comfortingly. There was nothing else she could say.

Magnus took a deep breath and stood, dismissing the old Portal and opening another one. "I'll take our fallen through," he said. "We'll deal with the Circle later." He sneered at the pile of Circle members.

"I'll help," Clary said.

"You can't," Magnus said quickly, stopping his niece.

"You promised-"

"I know," he said, place a placating hand on her shoulder. "And I'll keep that promise but I can't now. This is the one place no one but a warlock can go."

"The Spiral Labyrinth," Isabelle murmured, staring at the Portal in awe.

"The what?" Clary asked curiously.

"It's a warlock safe have," Alec said. "Only warlocks know where it is."

"They won't tell anyone how to get their either," Jace added.

"All warlocks know where it is and how to get there from birth," Magnus said, gathering up Adham's body first. "The punishment for revealing the secret to anyone other than a warlock is instant, painful death." He grinned. "Something I'm not a particular fan of."

Without waiting for a reply, he stepped through the Portal and began the slow process of carrying the bodies of his brethren to the Spiral Labyrinth. Their loved ones and fellow warlocks would see to their care from there. When he finished with them, he returned to his Lair, and closed the Portal.

"What about them?" Jace asked, thrusting his chin at the pile of dead Circle members derisively. Magnus merely snapped his fingers and the pile vanished. Jace eyed the warlock suspiciously. "Where did you send them?" he asked.

"Do I want to know?" Alec muttered.

Magnus merely smiled. "A certain incinerator will be burning a bit hotter for the next few hours," he said dismissively. "As for you," he said, approaching Isabelle, "I believe in payment for aid." He held out a hand and the enchanted ruby necklace swung from his ringed fingers. "Thank you for helping the warlocks." A brilliant smile blossomed on Isabelle's face as he opened her mouth to refuse only to be shushed by Magnus. "Just accept it, dear," he said, latching the necklace around her neck. "Although, if you insist, you could tell me your full names?"

"Isabelle Lightwood," Isabelle said, fluttering her eye lashes flirtatiously. She was curious to note the High Warlock's sudden tensing.

"Lightwood?" he repeated, sounding unsure.

"She's my sister," Alec said.

Magnus' narrowed at Alec, stepping away from Isabelle and holding his hands behind his back in an obvious withdrawal. "And you Sir Arrogance?" he asked the blonde.

"Jace Wayland," the blonde snapped. "Geez. Do you always insult your guests?"

"Only when they're uninvited," Magnus countered. "You wanted to talk to me," he said, facing Clary. "We can talk in my room while my 'guests' clean up this mess."

"Don't you have magic for that?" Jace gasped.

"Yes," Magnus said, waving away Jace's words. "But why waste energy when there are plenty of idle hands right here? Idle hands are the devil's playground."

Jace stared flatly at the warlock's retreating back. He huffed and shrugged in exasperation. "Why did we come here again?" he asked no one in particular.

* * *

Magnus took care to murmur a silencing spell on his room. They could hear what happened out there but the Shadowhunters couldn't eavesdrop on his and Clary's conversation in here. "I'd ask you to draw a Silence rune but I have no desire to have my mahogany doors damaged," he said flippantly. "Burn marks tend to ruin the atmosphere."

He locked the doors and turned to Clary who stood by her hammock in front of the window. His shoulders drooped. "I take it there's something you want to ask me," he said.

Clary opened her mouth to speak but sighed. "I'm not sure what to ask," she said waving her hand helplessly.

"Yes you do," Magnus encouraged gently. "Try."

After a moment, Clary looked him in the eye and visibly steeled herself. "What did you do to me?" she said bluntly.

He sighed. "I removed your memories," he said.

He watched Clary's face slacken as the shock of his words sunk in. "You... Wha... Why?" she pleaded.

He strode up to her, gesturing to the hammock seeking permission. She promptly sat on the fabric and waited for him to sit next to her. He pushed them back and forth gently with his heels as he spoke. "To protect you and the Mortal Cup," he said. "When I first met your mother, she was running from the Circle. You were only ten at the time." He refused to meet his niece's eyes. Instead he focused his gaze on his clasped hands. "She begged me to remove your inner eye but I refused."

"Why?" Clary asked, not sure if she really wanted to know the answer.

"Because it would have either killed you, left you braindead, or driven you insane," Magnus explained. "The inner eyes is what allows people to have both the Sight and the ability to visualize something in their mind without ever seeing it directly."

"You mean like telling me to think of pink elephants?" Clary asked curiously.

Magnus nodded. "Even though you've never seen a pink elephant before, your mind can visualize it. It's using your inner eye to do so. Everyone has an inner eye but few people have an inner eye strong enough to give them the Sight. Most children used to have the Sight which would fade as they grew older. Some adults retained the Sight, but over time their numbers have dwindled. Well," he said derisively, "not dwindled so much as they either go insane or are treated like they're insane."

"Why?"

"Because they see, hear, and can interact with things most people can't," Magnus explained. "If you didn't know about the Sight and you saw someone talking to thin air, what would think?"

Clary's eyes softened in understanding. "I'd think they were a bit crazy," she admitted.

"Some modern medicines can temporarily blind the Sight, but not completely," her uncle said.

"Why would my mother ask you to do that if she knew that could happen to me?" Clary asked, trying desperately to understand.

"Because she loved you and she was trying to protect you the only way she knew how," Magnus said. He held up a hand to stop her questions. "Let me finish explaining then you can ask what you want." Clary slumped but nodded so Magnus continued. "Anyway, I refused to remove your inner eye but your mother insisted I do something. Again, I refused. Even if I could, I knew Jocelyn couldn't afford me."

"I'm the High Warlock of Brooklyn," Magnus said at Clary's unvoiced question. "I'm slightly more expensive than the average, run-of-the-mill warlock. That said, she wouldn't stop bothering me. Eventually, I gave up and let her spend the night at my Lair to let her have some rest before continuing to escape the Circle."

He groaned. "She knew exactly what she was doing," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose frustration. "That night you had a night terror. She waited until it passed before asking me again to help you. I gave in. I still refused to touch your in er eyes," he said quickly, holding up a finger. "But I did remove your early memories and wove a spell over your mind that would cause you to forget anything of the Shadow World almost as soon as you saw it. It was one of the best and most complex spells I've ever created," he murmured in awe.

"I tailored it to your mind as best I could," he said. "It had to do its job without interfering with your inner eye or harming your brain. Unfortunately, that meant the spell had to be renewed every two years. If the spell had been stronger, the chances of you suffering severe brain damage or insanity increased sharply. I refuse to be responsible for the death of a child." He sighed and hung his head. "So I decided to move in near Jocelyn's hiding place to both be in easy reach should she required help and to protect the both of you."

"As you grew, I became more and more attached to you," he admitted softly. "That...wasn't supposed to happen. I've closed myself off for so long that I didn't realize how good it feels to care for someone." He lifted his head but kept his eyes down. "That...is the truth."

Only the. Did he hesitantly glance at Clary. She wasn't looking at him though. She was staring straight ahead in thought. "Could you get them back?" she asked after a while. "My memories?"

Magnus shook his head, scratching his head. "I sort of don't have them anymore," he admitted, avoiding his niece's eyes. "I couldn't keep them. I removed your memories to keep the Mortal Cup t away from Valentine and the Circle. All Valentine would've had to do was capture me and torture your memories out of me and he would've gotten your mother, you, and the Mortal Cup. I protect my friends Clary Fray."

"Valentine?" Clary repeated. "I know that name. I remember... I think Luke said it once."

Magnus nodded. "Not surprising. Luke knew Valentine. He met your mother through him. It's a long story, but..."

"Why would I remember that if you stole my memories?" Clary asked, trying to wrap her mind around the whole concept.

"Because the spell is temporary," he replied. "It only blocks memories involving your Sight and it only lasts for two years. As of your eighteenth birthday, the spell is wearing off."

"Then what about the memories you removed?" Clary asked hopefully. "Will they come back too?"

"No," Magnus said, looking very much downtrodden. "I...fed them to a Memory Demon fir safekeeping. They would be safe and out of reach there."

"But you can get them back," Clary pressed, growing frustrated.

"I can't," Magnus said slowly. "I can only do the actual summoning. Only the person whose memories were taken can make the demand. Before that, that same person, in this case you, would have to drawn the demon's pentagram, then everyone involved in the summoning would have to pay a price for your memories return."

Clary hesitated. "What price?"

Magnus shook his head. "I have no way of knowing that." They sat in silence for a minute before Magnus stood. "I'll leave you alone," he said. "Just... I am sorry but I would do it again if it meant protecting you. Your my niece, Clary Fray." He paused at his door and looked at her over his shoulder. "Blood isn't always thicker than water."

Then he left her alone to ponder, closing his bedroom doors behind him. He leaned back against the wood and sent up a prayer that Clary wouldn't push him away. He'd lost too much. If Clary decided to leave him, he wasn't sure how he would deal with it. Even the damn Lightwood boy with his fantastic ass and adorable blushes would be hard pressed to fill the place in his heart reserved for Clary and, dare he say it, Simon. Because everyone knew where Clary went, Simon went also.

There went the family. He groaned.


	15. Repercussions

**A/N:** This is a bit on the shorter side, but it includes the other characters that are caught up in this mess. Everything's connected one way or another. Dr. Stephen is just an OC used for a short stint to forward the plot. He's not important otherwise, just FYI. Although, if anyone wants to guess what character I named him after, feel free. ^_^ **  
**

 **Chapter summary:** In which everything is always Magnus' fault, Beckett isn't happy, and Garroway gets some less than good news. **  
**

* * *

 **15: Repercussions**

He had to button and clamp his coat pocket shut when the blasted drunk fledgling kept scrambling to get out. Honestly, it was driving him insane. He blamed Magnus. He'd seen the warlock at Hardtail therefore this whole crazy situation had to be his fault. That's how it worked.

He hissed out a colorful curse when a set of tiny, sharp teeth bit his finger. He sprinted the rest of the way to Hotel DuMort. He was in the process of sneaking into the lounge when the rat in his pocket jerked. "Screw you," he snapped. "God, can you just stay still unt-"

A colorful explosion of sparks erupted from his pocket knocking him back onto the ground with a grunt of surprise. His grunt quickly became a gasp when a human sized weight that had most definitely not been there before impacted his chest. He lay sprawled out on the cool floor stunned for a moment and stared at the person on his chest. The person flailed like some flopping fish before catching sight of Raphael, then the person stilled.

The person was a young man with curly brown hair and brown eyes hidden behind thick rimmed glasses. He wasn't dressed like someone who'd just come from a rave. In fact, he looked like a nerd who frequented hipster record stores. And he was most definitely not a fledgling. Raphael could smell blood like a punch to the face. He was a Mundane.

"Oh my gosh I'm so sorry!" the Mundane said quickly pushing himself up. "I have no idea what happened. I was just grabbing something to drink, I swear. I just wanted water. It didn't taste like alcohol even it did turn this weird blue color when I shook it up. It was seriously strange. I've never seen anything like it. It almost glowed and it smelled so sweet it was like-"

Fed up with the incessant rambling, Raphael planted both hands on the Mundane's shoulders and pushed. The Mundane screamed like a baby and sailed through the air, smacking the far wall and tumbling to the ground. The impact knocked the air out of the Mundane's chest silencing him for a few blessed seconds. Unfortunately, those seconds didn't last long.

"Woah," the Mundane said, pushing himself carefully up from the floor. He cradled his gut and slumped back against the wall for support. "You just... I mean you just." He mimed tossing something. "You threw me like I was nothing. Dude, what the hell are you? I mean even Magnus can't do that. At least I don't think he can," he added, thoughtfully.

Raphael stiffened. Magnus? He clicked his tongue. He knew Magnus was behind this. The warlock always caused chaos. And the Mundane was still talking. "Do you ever shut up?" he asked in annoyance.

The Mundane paused briefly. "Yeah, yeah, sometimes."

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and began staggering backwards. Obviously the Mundane thought he was being sneaky and trying to escape. Raphael almost pitied him. Almost. Maybe if he actually shut up Raphael could muster up the smallest bit of pity. Nope, not in a million years.

"Mostly I just listen," the Mundane continued, still backing up. "I mean people talk to me, I talk to them. They listen to me, I listen to them. That's usually how thes- HOLY SHIT HOW'D YOU GET OVERE THERE?!"

Raphael lifted an unimpressed eyebrow from his new place right behind the Mundane. "I ran," he said.

"Yeah, but you... I mean, you were over there an now you're here and how the fu-"

"I'm very fast," Raphael said, stalking forward. He felt dark satisfaction to see the Mundane stumble into one of the cold leather couches in his rush to back away from Raphael's approach.

"Okay, okay, so that means you're probably something supernatural, right?" the Mundane said, holding out a hand. Did he really think a measly hand could hold Raphael back? "I've met a few supernatural thing, creatures, people! People! No offense. Supernatural people. Um. My uncle's actually a warlock."

This was beyond ridiculous. "Warlocks are sterile," Raphael said in a bored tone, just barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Everyone knows that."

"Yeah, but... Wait, what? Really? Huh." The Mundane stood straighter and crossed his arms in thought. "That's actually kinda interesting. But- all of them?" Raphael gave the Mundane a glare. "Alright, alright, fine, sheesh sorry. Prickly much?"

"Me?" Raphael said in disbelief. " _I'm_ prickly? Who's the idiot who drank a faerie beer and turned into a rat?"

"Yeah and that's another thing," the Mundane said, steamrolling right over Raphael. "What kind of person picks up a rat and puts them in their pocket and _then_ takes them home with them? What _are_ you even? Some kind of rat fanatic or something?"

Raphael was stunned. The Mundane actually had the audacity to talk back to him. "Don't you know anything?"

Now the Mundane looked defiant. "I know a lot," he said, puffing his chest out. "What should I know?" he asked in a smaller voice.

Raphael just shook his head. "You know Magnus Bane," he began slowly. "You called him your 'uncle'-"

"Because he is."

"Like hell he is," Raphael scoffed. "He's the High Warlock of Brooklyn. He hardly has the time or patience to deal with Mundanes who can't afford him."

"Well he had time for me and Clary," the Mundane said, proudly. "I think you're just jealous Magnus likes us better than you."

"Magnus Bane?"

The Mundane whirled around, missing Raphael's narrowed eyes. The woman who spoke gave the Mundane a sultry smile, gliding forward with a fluidness reminiscent of a snake. She strolled up to the Mundane and drew her fingers in what could have been seen as a tender caress but Raphael knew better. If he hadn't regretted bringing the Mundane here a second ago, he certainly did now.

"You know Magnus Bane?" the woman purred.

The Mundane sputtered awkwardly. Raphael felt his discomfort grow as he watched the woman's smile grow.

"Camille," he said. She flashed him a quick grin before returning her gaze to the Mundane currently falling for her Encanto. "He's a Mundane. We need to-"

"A Mundane who knows Magnus Bane," she said with a gleeful twinkle in her eye. "He obviously can't afford a warlock of his caliber so can you blame me for being curious?"

Yes. He wisely said nothing.

"Well since you came all the way here," she said drawing swirling, invisible designs on the Mundane's cheek. "Do you have a name?"

"S-Simon Lewis," the Mundane said, smiling like an idiot.

Camille bit her lip in what could be considered flirtation. "Simon," she purred. "I'm Camille." The Mundane glowed. "Why don't you join me for a drink. I make a mean bloody Mary."

"Well, um, I uh..." The Mundane cleared his throat awkwardly. "I kind of have to go. See, my mom's gonna miss me and-"

He was silenced by a single slender finger resting on his lips. "Shhh," Camille whispered. "Stay for one drink?"

The Mundane blushed. "I...I guess one drink wouldn't hurt," he said shyly.

Raphael shook his head, mouth sealed shut, and left. He didn't want to be around to watch another one of Camille's conquests. Besides, this was all Magnus' fault. Thus, the idiot warlock should clean up his mess.

* * *

"Are you Richard Castle?" the doctor said to the worried man sitting in one of the chairs in the hospital room.

"Yes," the man replied, standing. "How is Alexis?"

"I'm Dr. Stephen," he said, shaking Castle's hand. "Your daughter's stable." He glanced at the woman next to Castle. "Are you-"

"Detective Kate Beckett," she said, holding up her badge. "We were investigating a case when she called."

Dr. Stephen nodded in understanding. He looked over his shoulder to be sure the red headed girl was asleep and said, "The drug is mostly out of her system now," he said. "We had to pump her stomach to be sure, but it looks like we've gotten as much of it out as we can. Now we just wait until she wakes up."

"But she'll be alright," Castle said, searching the doctor's face for confirmation. He was relieved when the man nodded.

"She should be, yes," Dr. Stephen said. "You were lucky you caught it so early. Normally we get addicts too far gone to save."

"Yeah, about that," Beckett said, "what sort of drug was this?"

"It's a new street drug we've seen on occasion," Dr. Stephen replied. "It's not entirely common, per say, but we have seen it a time or two. I believe the street name is 'silver powder.' It's typically used as a party drug. It acts as a stimulant, heightening the senses, and giving the user a boost of energy." He sighed. "It also drains the user of their color over time, thus where it gets its name. If not caught quickly, the user becomes addicted and, more often than not, they die."

"But she'll be alright," Castle repeated. "My Alexis, she-"

"Be fine," Dr. Stephen insisted. "I promise. Like I said, we caught it early enough to flush what little of the drug was in her system before it could do much damage."

"Thank you," Castle murmured, nodding.

Dr. Stephen patted the writer on the shoulder. "If you need anything, just let one of the nurses know," he said and left.

"I'm going to go report this to the Vice unit," Beckett said, resting a hand on Castle's arm. "Take the night off. Be with your daughter. I'll come check on you in the morning."

Castle smiled weakly in thanks then took a seat by his daughter's hospital bed. Beckett waited until she was out of the hospital room and in the hallway before dialing Detective Ryan. She held the phone to her ear and waited for her friend to respond.

"Yea-lo," Ryan's voice called through the speaker.

"Ryan could you check on something for me?" she asked.

"Sure," Ryan chirped. There was rustling on the other end like paper rubbing together. "Whatcha need?"

"I need you to look into a drug called 'silver power,'" she said. "Someone just slipped some to Alexis."

"Geez, is she alright?"

"She will be." Beckett glanced back at the door to the room Alexis and Castle were in. "Castle's with her now. She's asleep at the moment."

"Silver powder, you said?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah. Let me know when you get anything," she said. "And go ahead and let Captain Vargas know I want to speak to Detective Garroway. Something tells me this is a bit more complicated than just a few missing people."

"If you don't mind me sayin'," Ryan said, "I personally agree."

"Noted. See you tomorrow."

"Right. Sleep well."

Beckett hung up and slipped her phone in her pants pocket. This was now how she wanted to end her night. There was just something wrong with involving children in these kinds of things. It was getting late. She would look over her notes and put them together with whatever Ryan found on this silver power stuff tomorrow morning when she was more awake. This was just beginning to spiral out of control.

* * *

When he heard through the police gossip grapevine that the Fray's place had been discovered, he knew Dot was dead. He was still at work so he couldn't morn her or try to deal with the problem yet. For now, he needed to work on his and possibly Alaric's alibis. He knew suspicion for the both break-ins and missing persons' cases would fall on him just as a matter of principle. Even if no one actually suspected him, he had to be officially cleared.

But knowing that and actually doing it were two different things. He'd done his homework on Detective Beckett. She was good, real good. Especially since that author Richard Castle had joined her team as a consultant. Them plus Detectives Ryan and Esposito made a great team. They hadn't lost a case yet. Hell, even the precinct's medical examiner was a friend of Beckett's.

She knew people, she was good, and she was clean. Normally, that would be the perfect combination for a policeman. But from his point of view, it was a problem. It meant she couldn't be bribed, or blackmailed, or removed. They NYPD needed more people like her. Besides, Luke respected her enough not to do anything that would cause her harm. As long as she didn't cross too far over too many lines, the Shadow World would remain a secret and Beckett could get off this Scott free.

Naturally, nothing was so easy as that.

He picked up the phone when it vibrated and answered. "Detective Garroway."

"Luke, it's Alaric."

"Alaric?" Luke asked, gathering his stuff to clock out and head home for the night. "I thought you were taking the night off."

"I was." The muffled sound of traffic echoed through the phone. "I was on patrol on the east side of Manhattan and you wouldn't believe what I saw."

Garroway schooled his expression when he waved goodnight to his captain. "I'm listening," he said, as he left the building for the safety of his car. He wasn't prepared for the answer.

"Simon Lewis with the Castle girl at Hardtail."

Garroway very nearly tripped over the steps. "What?" he gasped, quickly lowering his voice. "Are they still there?"

"The girl isn't but I haven't seen Simon leave yet," Alaric replied. "The woman detective and that Castle guy came to pick up the girl. I think..."

Garroway closed the door of his sedan and turned the engine over. "You think what?" he said. "Was there something wrong?"

"I think she was tripping," Alaric said. "Not on any Mundane stuff either."

"Shit," Garroway muttered.

"There's more," Alaric said a second later.

"How bad?"

"There were Shadowhunters there too."

Garroway had to fight every instinct not to throw the phone across the car in frustration. "Circle or Institute?" he demanded.

"Institute," Alaric said quickly. "No Circle rune on their necks. Also, they were a bit young."

"So maybe there to party, not hunt," Luke offered.

Alaric hummed. "The girl was certainly dressed to party, but the two guys with her weren't. One had a bow and quiver on him. I wouldn't be surprised if they all had their seraph blades too."

"So possibly a hunt." Luke rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "This is not what I needed to hear," he muttered. "I'll wait a little longer in case Simon comes back out."

"Do that," Luke ordered. "Call me the moment you see him and make sure he gets home safely. I don't want him hurt."

"Will do. And Luke," Alaric said. "How are you going to deal with your dead 'witnesses'?"

Luke groaned. "I've worked it out so far," he said. "They refused police protection and we couldn't get to them in time. That's the cover story I'm going with."

"Let's just hope the captain buys it," Alaric said wryly.

"That's about all we can do at this point," Luke said. "Hope."

Alaric shifted, the rustle of clothing temporarily filling the speaker. "The New York Pandemonium Club is meeting next week," he said. "I wouldn't be surprised if Magnus made an appearance."

"I doubt he'd do that considering what's going on with the warlocks," Luke said. "What with the Circle hunting warlocks, I doubt any warlocks will show."

"But it's worth a shot," Alaric pressed. "If anything, we could try to figure out where he is to send a fire message at least."

Garroway had to agree with his friend's logic. It did make sense.

"You and I both know Clary's probably with him," Alaric added.

Luke sighed, giving in. "Fine," he said finally. "I'll go. Hopefully I won't have to stay too long. Rich people are just a bit to much for me."

"Rich Mundanes or rich Downworlders?"

"They're both obnoxious," Luke said, feeling a smile touch his lips.

Alaric chuckled. "Night Luke. I'll call you if I see anything."

"Alaric," Luke said before his friend could hang up, "thank you."

"Don't mention it."


	16. Progress is in Progress

**A/N:** I'm so sorry for the delay. I got sick Monday and have literally been running fevers ever night since until now. I'm seeing a doctor to figure out what the heck is going on. Meanwhile, here's this chapter. I'll edit this tomorrow. Sorry again.

 **Chapter summary:** In which Clary needs to be mad, Raphael is pissed, and Catarina is out-of-the-loop.

* * *

 **16: Progress is in Progress**

"So what, you're kicking us out?"

"Yes, that is usually what 'get out' means," Magnus said slowly as if the blonde Shadowhunter, Jace, was stupid. "I do my best to avoid you people. Unless you require my services and you can pay," he added, "then I'm not interested in getting involved in your politics."

"Fine, but Clary comes with us," Jace said, crossing his arms.

Magnus chuckled. "Clary will do what she wants," he said. "Although I can protect her better here than you can at the Institute."

"Yes, the dead warlocks were proof of that," Jace muttered. Almost immediately, he look contrite and bowed his head. "Sorry," he said, running a hand through his hair. "That was uncalled for."

"Yes it was," Magnus said coldly. "However, I'll overlook it for now." He dug out his vibrating phone from his pocket, checking the screen. He dismissed the call when he saw the caller ID.

"We'll go," Isabelle said softly. She placed a gentle hand on Magnus' arm. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Magnus nodded to her with the faintest of smiles.

"What are we supposed to tell the Clave?" Alec asked seriously, crossing his arms. "They know we're hunting the person behind the demons responsible for the drained Mundanes. Hodge probably hasn't have mentioned the new Shadowhunter girl to them yet though. They are aware of the warlock issue though."

"I'm sure they'll do nothing," Magnus said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It doesn't involve Shadowhunters, therefore they won't care." He pulled out his phone and frowned at the called, dismissing the caller again. "Besides, I have things I need to take care of at the mome-"

He cut off when the doors to his bedroom opened and Clary appeared. She hesitated before stepping out, studying the tableau in the living room and taking in the atmosphere. "Hey," she said finally.

She closed the door behind her and came over to the group, crossing her arms over her chest as if holding herself together. Magnus offered her a smile and a cup of steaming chamomile tea with a flash of blue sparks. She took it and stood by his side.

"So," she said, taking a sip of the tea, "where's the pentagram I need to draw?" she asked, her eyes determined.

The request startled a laugh out of Magnus, impressed despite himself. "You'll need a few runes to do it. Perhaps one of our guests could do the honors before leaving," he said, glancing at the other Shadowhunters.

"Pentagram?" Jace gasped. "You're going to summon a demon?" He stared at Magnus accusingly. "Alone?"

"I'm a warlock," Magnus said, rolling his eyes. "It wouldn't be the first time I've ever summoned a demon alone or no." He smirked. "Since you're so concerned, why don't you draw the runes on her. Arm only," he said sharply.

Jace huffed. "I know the ones," he said, palming his stele. "What demon are you planning on summoning? We'll stay if you need help holding a circle barrier."

"That's..." Magnus paused, considering the offer thoroughly. "What would you expect in return?" he said carefully.

"Clary comes with us to the Institute," Jace said.

"Clary," the person of interest said, "will do what she wants. I'm not a prize to be won." She aimed a glare at the arrogant Shadowhunter who dared to suggest she was anything less than a person.

The Shadowhunter quickly held up a hand. "That's not what I meant," he said sincerely. "I meant you're a Shadowhunter."

"And?" Clary pressed with a raised eyebrow, taking another sip of her tea.

"And you should get to know us before you decide you hate us," Jace finished.

Clary felt her conscience prick. She was doing exactly what Magnus said not to do: judge based on a single encounter. In this case, it wasn't so much a single encounter as a single group she kept encountering, the Circle aside. She took a sip of her tea to give her a few more precious seconds of thought when an incessant buzzing reached her ears. She glanced down at Magnus pocket curiously, amused when Magnus all but groaned and pulled out his phone.

He sighed heavily. "You two," he said pointing to Clary and Jace, "behave. I have to take this or he'll never stop calling." He answered the phone and pressed it to his ear. "What is it?" he said in a bored tone as he stepped away from the group for a semblance of privacy.

"Look, it's our job to protect Mundanes and the Downworld from demons," Jace said.

"It can makes us callous," Isabelle said quickly. "When you're raised from birth to be a soldier and distrust anyone who isn't a Shadowhunter," her eyebrows flicked up to her hairline, "it can make it difficult to stay open minded. Of course," her full lips split in a sultry smile, "one night with a faerie and..." She bit her lip and shrugged. "Mind open." She winked and Clary chuckled.

"I did not need to hear that," Alec mumbled awkwardly.

"We're not all bad" Jace said. "Just give us a chance and we'll-"

"I can't leave him," Clary said over Jace's voice. "He's the only steady thing I have in my life right now after the Circle took my mother. I made him promise not to leave my sight until we get my mom back."

"You can't live like that, you know," Alec said with a hint of sympathy. "You have to be able to stand on your own without a crutch."

"Magnus is not a crutch," Clary snapped. "He's my uncle. He and my mom practically raised me. He didn't have to help me the first time, but he did, and then he stayed. He didn't have to help me this time, but he did, and he lost his entire," she grasped for the word, "Mundane life for me. All because I asked him for help." She narrowed her eyes. "And he never asked for a price."

"I believe you," Isabelle said before an argument could start. "You don't have to go if you don't want to. But I do think you should see how Shadowhunters live and work. You're one of us. At least give us a chance."

"We might have to delay our little demon summoning," Magnus said, toying with his phone. "It seems the vampires have broken the Accords."

"What?" Isabelle gasped.

"How?" Jace demanded.

"They've captured a Mundane," Magnus said. He rolled his eyes. "Apparently, that makes it my fault." He sighed dramatically. "Honestly, I may be a big mover in the Shadow World but I don't control everything."

"Accords?" Clary asked. "What are those?"

"A series of agreements established between the Downworlders and Shadowhunters that must be upheld by all sides," Jace explained. "Kidnapping a Mundane under any circumstances is a big no-no." He turned back to Magnus, face stern. "We'll deal with this."

"I'm sure you will," Magnus muttered, typing a quick text to someone on his phone, probably the person who called him.

Jace glanced at Clary with interest. "You should come with us," he said.

"Why?" Clary asked, suspicion sparkling in her eyes.

"In this case," Magnus said slowly, drawing his niece's gaze, "I have to say I agree. It would be wise for you to get some experience with your people." His gaze softened. "You can vent some of your pent up anger too. Although," he added with a sly grin, "I would appreciate it if you didn't just slaughter everyone you come across. I do have a few informants I'd like to keep alive."

"No promises," Jace said.

"Yes promises," Clary snapped. She sent a hot glare at the blonde. "No more killing than necessary." She huffed and chugged the rest of her tea, clearly struggling with something. She faced Magnus directly, staring directly into his eyes. Surprisingly, it was Magnus who looked away first. "Don't take this the wrong way, but let me be mad for a while," Clary said.

Magnus dropped his eyes and gave a slight nod. Clary budged his arm with her elbow which elicited a faint smile. Then she pulled the inactive seraph blade she'd taken from one of the slain Circle member from where she'd stuffed it in her jeans at her hip. "I'll go with you," she said, turning to Jace. "If anything, to make sure you don't cause as much destruction as the Avengers."

"The who?" Isabelle asked curiously.

"The Avengers," Clary said giving Isabelle an odd look. "You know: Iron Man, Captain America, Hawkeye, Thor?" The Shadowhunters' faces simply became more confused with each name. Magnus snorted, covering a smirk with a not-so-polite hand. "Marvel?" Clary pushed. When no one other than Magnus showed any sign of comprehension, she sighed. "What kind of deprived lives did you live anyway?" she muttered. "Let's just go before I force all of you on a Marvel marathon."

Magnus snickered as the Shadowhunters left. He wasn't too thrilled with the idea of Clary leaving his sight, but he understood the need to vent. He had a few bad habits that reared their ugly heads when he got particularly upset. Besides, between Jocelyn, Luke, and himself, Clary and Simon had had a decent background in self defense and hand-to-hand combat. Add to that the group of Shadowhunters who were accompanying her and was fairly certain Clary would be safe. If there was one thing Magnus was sure of regarding Shadowhunters, it was that they protected their own.

Warlocks however, he thought soberly, turning to his unconscious friend on his couch, tended to be on their own unless they were needed form something. "What have I done, Elias?" Magnus murmured.

"You were an idiot."

Magnus narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Elias. "How long were you awake?"

Elias groaned, rolling onto his side. "Clary has a shrill voice," he grumbled.

"She does not," Magnus defended.

"You must be deaf."

The High Warlock of Brooklyn huffed childishly. "And to think I healed you," he said, strolling away. "Go back to sleep. You're too loud."

"Says the deaf one," Elias muttered. "You were right," he said after a moment. He couldn't see Magnus from his place on the couch, but he could hear his friend's footsteps halt. "She is different." He heaved a sigh and gingerly pressed two fingers to his permanently damaged horn, wincing at the pain that blossomed from the touch. "I'm sorry I doubted you."

Magnus said nothing for several minutes, just long enough for Elias to begin drifting back to sleep. Naturally that was when Elias heard his friend mutter something about getting another bed. He felt his lips twitch then gave in and slept.

* * *

Raphael checked his phone and almost threw it across the room in fury. The only thing stopping him was the fact he liked this phone. Damn Magnus. Sure, Camille being here made things complicated for both Magnus and Raphael, but if Raphael had wanted Shadowhunters crawling all over his home, he would have contacted the Institute. He didn't. He contacted Magnus hoping the warlock would take care of things.

Why the hell would Magnus pass this very person plea for help on to the Institute in the first place? Magnus wasn't like that. He preferred to avoid Shadowhunter entanglements. Which brought Raphael back to the original question: why in God's name was Magnus sending Shadowhunters here?

He tightened his grip on his phone, careful not to break it, as he took three deep breaths to calm himself down. Once he deemed himself calm enough to face this new problem with a relatively clear head, he pocketed his phone and began pacing. If Shadowhunters were coming, then he had to be ready. In his experience, Shadowhunters rarely differentiated between friend from foe when it came to Downworlders. They attacked anyone who resisted.

Raphael's first duty was to his coven, Camille excluded. He only protected her because she was still technically the leader, and thus she was more powerful than he was. Not to mention, she was much older and had a colder heart. Magnus could attest to that personally.

He would have to somehow convince the majority of his coven to steer clear of the invading Shadowhunters. It wouldn't be easy, but it could be done. It _had_ to be done. He was currently second in command so he had the sway to pull it off. He just may have to suggest the command to move was from Camille.

He held his breath and snuck back to the room where Camille was making out with her new Mundane toy. Disgusting. He knew he was pulling a face because Camille's eyes flickered to where he stood be the wall and she grinned. She bloody grinned at him at the same time she bit into the Mundane's neck. If she tried to turn the Mundane...

She wouldn't dare.

"Did you need something, Raphael?" she asked sweetly, her lips red from more than just lipstick.

Raphael sneered and rolled his eyes. "You're messy," he said.

She giggled and tipped the Mundane's head back so she could gaze into his mesmerized eyes. "You were saying, sweetling?" she purred.

"That...uh, that's all. I mean," the Mundane stuttered. "They think he has it but, well, he says he doesn't."

Camille trailed a finger along the Mundane's chin. "If the Circle's really as interested in this... _thing_ as you say they are then I'm interested." She tapped the boy's nose. "So," she purred, "what is it?"

The Mundane boy shrugged shyly. "I don't actually know," he admitted sadly. "He never said, just that he didn't know where it is."

Raphael could see the annoyance in Camille's movements as she stood and made her way over to a pitcher of bloody Mary. "Raphael," she trilled, pouring a glass for herself, "what do you think would be so important to the Circle they would start a manhunt for warlocks?" She turned to her second-in-command and sipped her drink with a raised brow.

"I wouldn't know," he replied, feigning boredom. "Since when did you become so interested in affairs outside our own?" he shot back. "Or," he strode forward so he stood behind the delirious Mundane, "Since when did you start keeping Mundanes as toys? You _do_ know it's against the Accords."

Camille just flashed him a coy smile. "Well, I wasn't the one who brought him here," she said, taking another sip. "As I recall, that was you." She made an expression of mock surprise at Raphael who hissed. "Technically, that makes you the one who broke the Accords, not me." She began walking back to the couch where the Mundane still sat. "I'm merely making sure he stays safe until the sun rises," isn't that right my little caramel?" She said the last part to the Mundane, tapping his nose cutely.

"You're a twisted bitch," Raphael spat.

"And yet I'm the one in charge and you're the one nipping at my coattails," she said smoothly, sinking into the golden couch cushions next to the Mundane. "Come here, Simon." She tugged the Mundane close until he was practically on her lap. "Tell me more about this," her shoulders shook with excitement, "unusual uncle of yours. I hear he's easy on the eyes."

Raphael shook his head and stalked out of the room. That was downright degrading to watch. He should never have picked up that rat in the first place. Him and his damn bleeding heart. From now on, no more taking care of fledglings. If they drank too much and poofed into a rat or bat or whatever, they were on their own. He was not a babysitter.

* * *

She slipped into the hospital room easily enough. The guard by the door was kind enough to let her in, but it did leave her worried for the occupant's safety. The patient was just a young girl, after all. She flipped her long black hair from her ponytail over her shoulder, tucking the few stray strands behind her ear. The room was just dark enough to allow the patient and guests to sleep easier but just light enough for doctors and nurses like her to see where they were going and what they were doing.

Her dark brown-black eyes took note of the patient's pallor and she sighed. She shifted the fresh bag of saline she carried from one hand to the other so she could pick up the patient's chart and read the diagnosis. Her black eyebrows drew together with worry when she read through the sheet. Silver powder. That wasn't supposed to be widely used anymore. How on earth had this girl, Alexis Castle, she read on the patient's chart, manage to get it into her system? Thank all that was holy, they'd gotten to her in time. Catarina still remembered the stories she'd heard from both Magnus and Tessa of what that terrible drug did to poor Jem Cartairs.

She replaced the chart as quietly as she could to keep from waking the man sleeping fitfully in the chair opposite the bed. That must be the patient's father, Mr. Castle. The poor man. He look exhausted. That left the older woman with obviously dyed red hair slumped indelicately across another hospital chair by the wall. A grandmother perhaps?

She shook her head and stepped closer to Alexis' bed and replaced the old saline bag with the new one she carried. After making sure everyone in the room was truly asleep, she held out a hand and allowed faint sparks of silvery-blue to to fall over Alexis' body. She felt her magic attempt to remove what was left of the poison as best it could. Hopefully, this would help prevent any withdrawal symptoms.

A faint moan filtered to her ears from the hospital bed and she stopped, pulling her hand back quickly. When she saw a pair of bleary gray eyes staring up at her, she smiled gently. "Hey there," she said in a quiet voice. "My name's Catarina. You can call me Cat. I'll be your nurse for tonight. How are you feeling, sweetie?"

Alexis blinked and shifted startling the man in the chair awake. "Alexis?" she called softly. "Alexis!"

"Alexis?" the grandmotherly woman gasped, woken by Mr. Castle's cry. "Oh darling, you're awake."

"I'm going to have to ask you both to keep your voices down a bit, please," Catarina said firmly, holding out a placating hand. "She's still tired."

"Will she be okay?" Mr. Castle begged. "Will my baby girl be okay?"

Catarina smiled and rested a reassuring hand on Mr. Castle's arm. "She'll be fine. I'm just changing her saline bag. But since our little sleeping beauty is awake, I'll alert Dr. Stephen. We'll probably keep her for another day or so to be sure there aren't any lingering side effects of the drug. But," she glanced at the now more awake Alexis, "I think she'll be just fine. Just make sure she stays away from drugs from now on."

"'Didn' take any on purpose," Alexis said, her words still slurring slightly from sleep.

"Someone slipped it to you?" the grandmother gasped, clapping a hand over her heart.

"Don't think so," Alexis said, struggling to push herself up. She smiled when Catarina activated the automation which lifted the bed so Alexis could sit up easily. "Just had water."

"Alexis," Mr. Castle said, squeezing his little girl's hand with his, "I need you think, sweetheart. Was anyone with you when you got your drink?"

Alexis thought for a moment then shook her head. "Just Simon," she said. "He's the guy who drove me there."

"Simon?" Castle repeated. "Simon who?"

"Lewis," Alexis said with a shrug, more awake now. "He was leaving the precinct after you and Beckett left." She flushed and ducked her head. "I just wanted to go to this dance bar to meet my friends. He was going there too and offered to drive."

Catarina blinked, stunned when she recognized that name. Magnus never shut up about his little practically-nephew and niece. By the Angel, what had that boy gotten into? This must be more of what had scared Magnus badly enough to risk sending her a fire message while she was on shift begging her to leave New York. She bit her lip. Catarina didn't regret staying at Beth Israel Hospital, she was needed here. But she did worry about Magnus and his alarming silence since she'd received the message.

She was surprised to see Mr. Castle's mouth drop open in recognition as well. "Simon Lewis?" Mr. Castle gasped. "As in tall, brown hair, glasses, geeky dude?" Alexis nodded. "And he was there at Hardtail? With you?" Alexis nodded again.

"Hardtail?" Catarina interrupted, staring at her patient in disbelief. "You went to Hardtail? That's not the kind of place for pretty girls like you to be hanging out at. It's dangerous."

"I was supposed to meet my friends," Alexis said, then sighed and fell back against her pillow. "But they never showed."

"Alexis listen," Mr. Castle said, holding his little girl firmly, "this is very important. Did Simon say if he was going to meet anyone there? Anyone at all? A name, a description, anything?"

Alexis nodded. "Yeah. Something about being DD or whatever. Why? What's going on?"

Mr. Castle just pulled out his cellphone and pressed the speed dial, holding the device up to his phone. "Simon's mother just reported him missing two hours ago," he said, sitting on the bed and resting a hand on Alexis' head. "You may be the last person who saw him."

Catarina took the chance to slip out of the room as quickly as she could. This was getting out of hand. First the Demonic Murders, then the Circle hunting the Warlocks, a resurgence of the accursed silver powder, and now Simon missing. This was not under control, far from it. Worse, her dear friend Magnus was at the center of it all. She bit her nail and made her way quickly down the hall, unaware of the unwelcome eyes watching her.


	17. The Institute and DuMort

**A/N:** I sincerely apologize for the delay. I've had a rough past few weeks. Long story short, I broke up with my fiancé and lost the desire to write for a while. Well, not the desire exactly. I wanted to write, I just...couldn't. Impromptu writer's block courtesy of emotions. That said, I'm doing better now so here's the long overdue update. Sorry it's a bit shorter than I typically prefer.

 **Side Note:** To anyone playing Pokémon Go, stay safe and choose Team Mystic! I'm level 12 and absolutely hooked to this game. Oh my lord. Everyone here in Athens, GA, is wandering around downtown and UGA's north campus hunting pokemon and taking over gyms. Literally, almost everyone. I've walked over 10 miles over the past several days catching pokemon, leveling up, and hatching eggs. It's awesome. ...I'm a little afraid of my data bill at the end of the month though. ^^;

 **Chapter summary:**

* * *

 **17: The Institute and DuMort**

"What is this?" Clary asked, staring up at the old dilapidated church.

"The Institute," Jace said, following Alec up the steps.

"Your base of operations is in an old church?" Clary shook her head, waving her hands an unimpressed shrug. "Of course it is. It's too cliché not to be."

"Cliché?" Alec said, sounding displeased.

Clary gave him a look. "Nephilim? Angels? Demons?" She made air quotes with her fingers and added, "And you're based in a church? I honestly don't know why I didn't guess that to begin with. I bet Simon would have." She let her arms drop dramatically to her side. "So why are we here?"

"We can't just invade the vampire's base," Alec said seriously. "We can't be seen intruding on the Downworlders' affairs."

"But they broke the Accords," Clary said.

Alec nodded and continued up to the church's door. "All the more reason to report this to the Clave," he said.

"Clary's right," Isabelle said. "The Clave would take too long to do anything."

Alec pressed his lips together and turned to his sister. "We can't just interfere based on hearsay," he said.

"It's too late for that," Isabelle said. "We helped the warlocks. The least we can do is check to see if this rumor is even true. If it is, we deal with it. If it isn't, we leave."

"It's never that easy," Alec said, shaking his head.

"I'm with Isabelle on this," Jace said. Alec turned to his _parabatai_ with a look of betrayal. "Think about it," Jace continued. "The Clave would demand we investigate it anyway, but by then it could be too late. If we do it now, we'll know for sure what's going on and we may be able to stop anything bad before it happens."

"Bad?" Clary said, worry creeping up her back. "Bad as in turning the Mundane into a vampire?"

"It's against the Accords," Alec said.

"So is kidnapping a Mundane," Jace countered. "That still happened."

"We should at least look into it," Isabelle said. "We can tell the Clave later." Alec hesitated. His siblings did have good points. "Besides," Isabelle added with a sly smile, "I know a back way into DuMort."

"How the hell do you..." Alec cut himself off with a sigh, raising his hands to stave off any potential explanation. "I don't want to know." He ran both hands through his hair as he struggled to decide what to do. Finally, he groaned. Isabelle shot Clary a wink which Alec ignored. "Fine," he said. "We'll go. But keep as little direct contact with the vampires as necessary."

"Just a quick in and out deal," Jace said. "Promise."

"It never works out like that," Alec grumbled.

"Maybe not," Isabelle agreed. "But since we're here, I'm going to change into something decent and grab my seraph blade. As much as I love my whip," she held up her wrist and admired the silvery serpent bracelet, "I think my blade would better suit this situation. I won't be but a moment," she said, slipping past her brothers. "Clary, come with me. We need to get you into some proper fighting clothes."

"Wait, Alec called after the girls, "I thought we were going to DuMort."

"We are," Isabelle said happily, "after we get changed. Besides," she added with a wink, "Clary gets to see the Institute this way. Now if you two will wait here, we'll be right back." She looped her arm around Clary's and all but dragged the red head into the old church.

"I'll never understand girls," Alec muttered. Jace nodded, flicking his eyebrows up in surrender.

Clary followed Isabelle through the old door of the church and only saw a dark, dilapidated interior. "Um, am I missing something?" she asked in confusion.

Clary watched Isabelle pull out a stele similar to her own and draw a quick rune on her wrist. The next thing she knew, the darkness was fading away, the cobwebs withdrew, the broken tiles aligned themselves perfectly, the shattered windows fixed themselves, and the fallen chandeliers rose up to the ceiling where they hung whole and alight. People milled about a large room just down a short hall that served as the entryway. Large computer screens showed runic symbols Clary vaguely recognized along with many she didn't.

However, one rune that stood out prominently on the nearest screen was one she knew well. It was a symbol she often caught herself doodling when she was bored. She'd just start drawing it without realizing it every couple...years. Right around her birthday. Her eyes narrowed. Was this something that had to do with Magnus removing her memories?

"That rune," she asked, striding boldly forward next to Isabelle to point at the black reverse arrowhead symbol on the screen, "what is it?"

"It's the angelic power rune," Isabelle said. Dark, glittering eyes flashed to Clary. "We followed a Mundane with this symbol on his van. Simon?"

Clary nodded. "I drew it." She shook her head. "Didn't even realize I did it."

There was a faint sound suspiciously like a 'meow' that caught Clary's attention. "Do you have a cat?" she asked, casting her eyes about the room for any sign of a feline.

"Well, officially it's the Institute's cat," Isabelle said, with a fond eye roll. "Unofficially, everyone knows it's actually Alec's cat. The thing only ever behaves with Alec. Demon cat will try to kill anyone else."

Clary giggled. "Does this demon cat have a name?"

"Church."

Clary gave Isabelle a flat stare. "Church?" she repeated dully. "Like the building?"

"Alec lost his naming rights for any future pets after that," Isabelle stage whispered. "Come on. Let's go get changed then we can leave," she said, flashing a smile. "Can't keep my brothers waiting."

"Is Jace your brother too?" Clary asked, hurrying after Isabelle while still trying to take in the sights.

"Yep," Isabelle chirped. "He's adopted but he's very much a part of our family. Here." She stopped in front of a door and pushed it open. "This is my room. Come on in and we can get changed. I think I have a few pairs of pants that'll fit you."

Clary stepped inside and couldn't help but stare at the eye catching stained glass windows lining to wall to the left. They told no story, they were just colors and shapes placed in a random order that cast faint rainbows on the floor in what Clary assumed to be moonlight. It was calming and inspired her artsy side.

"Here," was all the warning Clary got before a pair of dark, skinny jeans landed in her arms. "Put those on," Isabelle ordered. "This too," she added, handing Clary a black leather top.

Clary did as she was told and turned around to look at herself in the mirror. She promptly blushed at the design of the shirt, if it could really be called a shirt. It was a crop top with a neckline that plunged revealing her cleavage. Drawstrings wove through loops along the leather covering her breasts. They could be tightened or loosened according to the wearer's personal preference. It was much more skin than she was used to showing. Her hands awkwardly slunk up to cover herself, but Isabelle brushed them away.

"Here, let me," Isabelle said. She took the drawstrings and pulled them tight, tying them in a tight, neat bow at the top. "There. Sexy, flattering, workable, and easy to move in." She winked. "It suits you."

"Thanks," Clary mumbled.

Clary flushed and looked down at Isabelle's outfit. It was a similar black on black combination to what Clary was wearing. However, Isabelle's outfit was much more daring. Hints of red the same shade as Isabelle's lipstick peaked out from the layer of black like a tease.

"You look good too Isabelle," she said.

Isabelle scoffed. "Please, Izzy. Isabelle's what my mom calls me when she's mad."

Clary snorted and waited for Izzy to grab the hilt of an inactive seraph blade from her bed and tuck it into a holster on her hip. Izzy handed Clary a holster too which she wove through the belt loops of her pants.

"Sorry it's not in the best shape," Izzy said, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she hustled Clary out of her room into the hallway. "It's my backup holster. You still have that seraph blade from Magnus' place?"

"Yeah, here," Clary said, pulling out the inactive hilt and slipping it into the holster.

"Good. Keep it close."

Clary pursed her lips as she followed Izzy. "I much prefer a gun," she mumbled under her breath.

"So," Izzy said as they made they way briskly through the Institute once more, "I have to ask." She shot a sly glance at Clary from the corner of her eye. "Magnus Bane: is he a flower or cologne man?"

Clary snorted and had to bite her lip to hold back her laughter. "Flowers," she said. "Definitely flowers. He prefers natural scents over cologne any day. He also has a weakness for dark hair and blue eyes."

Isabelle snickered. "This is going to be so much fun," she said in withheld excitement. She sobered abruptly when they reached the front door. "Alec's not out," she said suddenly. "So don't tell him I told you. He knows I know, but that's because I figured it out on my own."

"Well, it was a bit obvious," Clary said with a sheepish shrug. "But don't worry. I won't breathe a word to anyone."

"Thanks," Izzy said with a grim smile. Then she pushed open the door and the glamour hiding the Institute rose once more. "Alright boys," she said proudly. "Follow me."

Alec rolled his eyes but followed his sister's lead with Jace by his side. Together they walked away from the Institute and towards Hotel DuMort.

* * *

Raphael paced in agitation. Damn this Mundane for throwing his already annoying life into chaos. Camille he could deal with alone, but not now that she was obsessing over the Mundane, Stewart or whatever his name is. It had been almost a full hour since he'd called Magnus but nothing had happened.

At least he had one thing going in his favor, most of his coven had gone to the rave at Hardtail which should have ended by now. It was almost 5:30 in the morning so the vampires who had been out were tired and drunk so convincing them to go to sleep early hadn't been too hard. The few who stayed at DuMort were standing guard or just biding the night away. Hopefully, this would lessen the number of casualties. Raphael cared for each member of his coven. They were his family.

Except Camille. She could die and Raphael wouldn't miss her. Honestly, Raphael doubted anyone in DuMort would miss her too much. They tolerated her leadership because she let them do as they wished most of the time. This lack of attention had allowed the coven to become lazy and arrogant. It was disgraceful.

His thoughts screeched to a halt at the same time he heard a pained cry from the floor below. Alert but wary, Raphael sprinted to the staircase and ran down the steps, pausing when he heard the door to the floor below open up. Immediately, his nose was assaulted by the overwhelming scent of-

"Angel blood," he muttered.

Without waiting to catch a glance of the Shadowhunters, he fled back up several flights of stairs and waited, listening for what floor the Nephilim stopped at. He counted four distinct scents mixing with the angelic blood belonging to the invading Shadowhunters: sweat, cologne, flowers, and books with the faintest hint of sandalwood. Magnus?

He resisted the urge to peer over the stairwell railing to catch a glimpse of the Shadowhunters. He had no desire to get caught and reveal his hand too early. Besides, one of those Shadowhunters smelled like Magnus. He waited until he heard the stairwell door for the main floor open and close behind the Nephilim before hurrying back down the stairs to follow them.

"Clary!" he heard Camille's Mundane call almost as soon as he opened the door. The name startled the vampire.

"Simon?" a female voice Raphael vaguely recognized from when he called Magnus over the phone. This must be the infamous Clary Fray Magnus all but obsessed over. She must be the one that smelled like the warlock. "What're you doing here?" he heard the girl, Clary, continue.

"Wait, you know each other?" a male voice said.

Raphael rolled his eyes. This simply wouldn't do. This wasn't the time to chatter like gossipy old women. Get the Mundane and get out stupid Shadowhunters. A hint of blood and caramel brushed his nose like a feather and he decided to hell with this and ran into the room as fast as his feet could carry him. He wanted them out before Camille came back.

"I'm so sorry," he said, coming to a stop directly behind the Mundane, Simon, facing the Shadowhunters. "I'm afraid I can't just let you leave."

The Mundane showed a flash of wisdom when he froze in place. That made it easy for Raphael to pin Simon's to his sides and snag his brown hair in a vicious grip, yanking Simon's head back baring his throat.

"Let him go vampire," the dark haired male Shadowhunter said in a commanding voice, drawing his bow as he did so.

"Simon!" Ah, that voice. This fiery redhead must be Clary. "Fuck you, let him go," she snapped, drawing her seraph blade. My, my, she certainly had spunk.

"Let him go and we'll overlook this," the other female Shadowhunter said this. She too had pale skin and black hair. She and the dark haired male must be related.

Raphael chuckled and tugging causing the Mundane in his arms to stagger backwards. "As I said, I can't do that. Besides," he bared his fangs just above Simon's neck, "you're not really in a position to be making demands."

"Neither are you," the blonde Shadowhunter said, taking the first step towards Raphael. This must be the chatty one who was surprised Clary knew the Mundane. Raphael would admit the coincidence was curious. But that was for later. "What do you want?" the blonde demanded.

"Let's take a walk," Raphael suggested, smelling Camille's perfume getting stronger. "Hurry," he added when the Shadowhunters didn't move fast enough to suit him. "Wouldn't want something to happen to Stewart now would we?"

"It's Simon," the Mundane snapped, then stiffened. "Why did you call me that?" he asked, stumbling as Raphael dragged him backwards.

"Of all the things to focus on, you choose that?" Raphael said in exasperated confusion. The Mundane opened his mouth to say something and Raphael quickly shut him up. "Forget I asked. Pick up your feet."

"Um, I don't know if you noticed but I'm being dragged backwards," the Mundane snapped in annoyance. "It's kind of hard to 'pick up my feet' when my heels are dragging."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"No," Clary said, speaking up suddenly. She flashed a hesitant smirk at Simon, but held her seraph blade at the ready.

Raphael picked up the pace until they finally slipped down a hallway to a doorway. He stood by the door and hissed through his fangs. "Go on," he said, nodding to the door.

The Shadowhunters took the hint and went up to the door first. The blonde Shadowhunter opened the door and brilliant morning sunlight blazed into the darkness of the gave a soft cry and leapt behind a metal scaffolding nearby, pushing Simon towards the Nephilim before darting back into the shadows. Damn east facing doors. Who's idea was that anyway?

"Clary Fairchild!" he called from his hiding spot. He saw the fiery red head stagger under the weight of Simon crashing into her and look up to Raphael in surprised bewilderment. "Remember who your friends are."

"Fairchild?" Clary murmured, furrowing her brow.

She stumbled when Jace grabbed her shirt sleeve and pulled her out into the sunlight rooftop. Isabelle slammed the door shut behind them and Only after they were all through did Raphael flee back into the bowels of DuMort.


	18. Reunions

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay in updating. my only excuses are work, life, classes starting back, starting on my Masters thesis proposal, and my Pokémon Go obsession. Everyone has been so worried about the little Chairman so I hope this chapter will satisfy all of you. Enjoy~

 **Chapter summary:** In which Simon has some explaining to do and the Chairman is the center of attention, or so he likes to think.

* * *

 **18: Reunions**

"Are we safe out here?" Clary gasped the moment the door slammed shut.

"Yeah," Jace said with a grin. "Vampires have a problem with sunlight. It turns them to ash on contact."

"As long as they don't sparkle or anything, I think I'm fine," Simon said, laughing weakly in relief. "But seriously though," Simon said, still staring at the closed door, "is anyone else wondering what just happened? Like, did that guy just help us or-?"

"Or," Clary said, whirling on her best friend with a furious expression, "how the hell you managed to get caught by vampires in the first place!"

Simon gulped and his shoulders slumped as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I sort of, kind of followed you to Hardtail."

Clary crossed her arms and cocked her hips so all her weight rested on one hip and pursed her lips waiting for Simon to continue. When he just shrank further under her gaze she rolled her eyes and groaned in frustration. "We specifically told you _not_ to."

A fire lit in Simon's eyes and he pulled his hands out of his pockets and held them out as if seeking answers from someone somewhere in exasperation.

"Right," he said, "because last time I didn't follow you, you house got destroyed, your mom got kidnapped, Magnus' place got raided, and you both fell off the goddamn map. So of _course_ I shouldn't follow you again because something like that won't _ever_ happen again. Oh no, that was just a one-time thing. It's not like there are people hunting you down for something you don't have or killing Magnus' people for no reason. And _naturally_ the police aren't investigating your disappearance and stuff. No, no, not at all. Everything's just peachy keen. Thanks for asking. Yeah, how are you this fine day? I spent all of last night in a creepy vampire base, but no worries I'm fine. One hundred percent fine. Fuck this shit, I'm freakin' _fine_!"

Simon was gasping when he was finished and there may have been tears in his eyes. He hadn't meant to say all that. He knew it wasn't Clary's fault, or even Magnus' fault for that matter. He knew they just wanted to protect him. But there was a difference between knowing something and accepting it. He did mean everything he said, he just...didn't mean to say it like that. It had been a long night.

Clary was staring at him with a stunned expression and that dumb blonde Shadowhunter person was giving him a look that was caught between impressed and amusement. Simon groaned and scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean for all that to come out at once," he said. "Let's just call it a night and go home, yeah?"

"We have to stop by the Institute first," Alec said. "We need to report this to Hodge."

"Fine. That's..." Simon shook his head, "fine. I'll just," he gestured vaguely, "take the subway."

"No," Clary said, stepping forward and taking Simon's hand in a firm grip. "He's coming with us." She shot a look at Alec daring him to argue. "I'll call Magnus when we get to the Institute and he can pick us up. How 'bout that?"

Simon's lips quirked up in a tired smile. "'Kay," he muttered.

Alec rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he said, taking charge. "Let's go. We're late as it is."

"We were on a time schedule?" Clary asked, hurrying to keep up with the dark Shadowhunter.

"We were supposed to be back at the Institute by dawn," Isabelle explained, flashing Clary a smile. "If Jace acts suitably drunk," she added with a playful wink at his brother, "I think we can pull off the party-hardy story."

"Only if you join me, Izzy," Jace shot back with an answering grin that was all pearly white teeth. "I never drink alone."

Clary heard Alec grumbling under his breath and figured this whole scenario was rather typical of this crazy family. It was amusing and nostalgic in a way. It reminded her of the antics she and Simon often got up to when Uncle Magnus took them 'adventuring' through the city. Those little 'adventures' usually resulted in a lecture from both Luke and her mom. Often, even Magnus found himself on the butt end of Jocelyn Fray's infamous lectures. But it never stopped him from taking his niece and practically-nephew on yet another adventure.

Jocelyn. Mom.

Simon squeezed her hand in encouragement drawing a faint smile from her. It had been a long and full past few days. When she came out of her thoughts, they were standing in front of the dilapidated church that served as the Institute.

"Um, guys, I don't do trespassing," Simon said. "Especially when the building I'm supposed to trespass in looks like it's one good smack away from collapsing."

Jace chuckled and took hold of Simon's free arm and all but hauled him forward to the church's front door. Simon complained non-too happily about the manhandling. When Jace opened the door, Simon was unimpressed by the interior.

"Wow," Simon said flatly. "Was there something I'm missing beca- HOLY SHIT! What the hell are you doing to your arm?" he exclaimed when he noticed Jace literally burning a loopy mark on his forearm leaving an angry red mark behind. "Dude, are you some kind of masochist or something?"

Jace grabbed Simon's hand. Simon flailed trying to shake his hand free.

"Woah!" he cried. "Bro, sorry, but I do not swing that way..." His words trailed away as the crumbling walls became fuzzy before solidifying in strong, solid stone illuminated by impeccable chandeliers hanging from the ceiling above, glossy wooden doorways and benches lined the entryway, and were those hi-tech monitors in that room up there? Yes. Yes, they were. Simon really wanted to play with them.

Next to him, Clary snickered. "Don't worry," she said, giving his shoulder a friendly nudge. "I had the same reaction when I saw it. Cool huh?"

Alec didn't stay to hear the answer, striding briskly through the hallway towards the main room with Isabelle at his heels. Jace just shook his head and waited with the two guests. So he added a bit of flail to the de-glamourization. He could show off every now and then.

"Oh heck yeah!" Simon burst, his eyes glowing with excitement. "What was that? Some Jedi mind trick? Or some kind of glamour or spell like from D&D?"

"Closer to the second," Clary said. "Come on, let me show you around while we wait."

Definitely hi-tech monitors. Symbols Simon didn't recognize glowed, swirled, and danced across the perfect, liquid crystal surface around the one symbol he did recognize.

"Hey," he said, pointing to the large black symbol at the center of one of the monitors. "I know that symbol. Clary painted it on my van. You used to paint that every so often. Kind of like that cool 'S' doodle everyone used to draw in elementary and middle school."

"'S' doodle?" Jace asked curiously.

Clary flushed and even Simon clicked his tongue awkwardly. "It's nothing really," the fiery haired girl said. "Just," she shrugged, "one day in the 90's, everyone just started drawing this doodle that looked like a crystallized 'S' thing. No explanation. We just all drew it. No one seemed to know who started it or when, we just all drew it for no reason."

"Spooky," Simon said in a creepy voice, waggling his fingers in a goofy mockery of magic casting.

Jace blinked in confusion. "Mundanes are weird," he muttered.

"Hey," Simon balked. "I am not a mundane person. I'm just not one hundred percent mainstream."

Clary cackled. "No one cool ever is," she said, holding out her fist for Simon to bump. Their knuckles touched briefly before bursting apart like finger fireworks, sound effects and all.

The blonde Shadowhunter hesitated. "Are you two together, or-?"

"No," Simon said, overrode by Clary's, "Oh god no. He's like my brother."

Ow. Not subtle at all. And man did that hurt.

Simon felt his enthusiasm drain from him but did his best not to show it. Clary had never shown interest in anyone like that before. But referring to him as a 'brother' still stung. What was that slang term? Ah yes, the 'friendzone.' How unoriginal and accurate.

Something soft brushed against his ankle just as he dropped his eyes to the floor. The moment his eyes settled on the fluffy young tabby rubbing against him and purring, he gasped.

"Chairman?"

"What?" Clary repeated, spinning to Simon. "Wha- Chairman!"

She knelt next to Simon, stunned to see her best friend cuddling the little tabby in his arms. "Chairman Meow what on earth are you doing here?" she asked, reaching out to scratch right behind the cat's soft ears. "Magnus has been worried sick about you. Oh you precious cutie pie."

"Yeah, I bet," Simon said, smiling down at the tabby. "What's he doing here?"

"I-" Clary shook her head completely bewildered.

"I see you found the latest addition to our little family," Isabelle said, returning to the group. A bright smile filled her face as she watched Clary and Simon pet the cat. "We haven't thought of a name for him yet, but we'll figure something out."

"His name's Chairman Meow," Simon said, snickering when the Chairman honored him with a lick from his sandpapery tongue.

"You named him?" Isabelle asked.

"No, Magnus did," Clary said, standing. "The Chairman's Magnus' cat. Or Magnus is the Chairman's human. It's kind of hard to tell with them sometimes." She turned curious eyes to the other woman. "Where did you find him? Magnus has literally been worrying himself sick."

Isabelle tilted her head and nodded thoughtfully as if finally understanding something. "I didn't find him," she said. "Alec did when he investigated Magnus' shop after the break-in. I don't know the details but Alec seems a bit," she bit her lip, "attached to the little guy." Then the grin was back full force. "He carried the Chairman all the way back to the Institute in his jacket pocket."

"Did he now?" Clary said, feeling a grin of her own stretch across her lips. "Well, I suppose it's only right if he returns the Chairman, don't you think?"

"Oh absolutely," Isabelle said seriously.

"What's going on?" Alec asked, coming down the stairs from the training arena where he'd reported to Hodge. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel when the two women aimed pointed stares right at him. "What?"

"His name's Chairman Meow," Isabelle supplied unhelpfully.

"Who?" Alec asked suspiciously.

"This little guy," Simon said, standing with the tabby Alec found currently attempting to climb his shirt. "His name is Chairman Meow. He's Magnus' cat." He successfully pulled the cat away from his shirt and was promptly bitten.

Alec let his eyes settle on the tabby, taking him from Simon's hands and letting the little guy settle comfortable on his shoulder next to his neck. "Magnus has a cat?" was all he could think to say.

He didn't really like the idea of giving up the tiny tabby, Chairman Meow. He liked the cat's energy. But if it did belong to Magnus, then it would be best if-

"You should return him to Magnus," Clary said, the sly grin on her face quickly vanishing almost as if Alec imagined it

The dark Shadowhunter eyed her, very sure he was missing something. "He's your uncle," he said. "You can just take him back." Silence. "Right?"

Clary gave him a disappointed look before rolling her eyes and pulling out her phone. She pressed a button and held the device up to her ear. "Hey Magnus," she chirped happily. Alec decided he did not like that tone. "So I have some good news and some bad news. Which do you want first? Bad? Okay, well it was Simon who'd been captured by the vampires. Later, uncle. I'll let Simon tell you the whole story."

"Traitor," Simon grumbled, looking very much like he wanted to melt into the ground.

Clary winked at him and continued into the phone. "The good news is we found the Chairman. Well, actually someone else found him. You'll never guess who. Nope, you have to come to the Institute to see. Trust me, you'll be glad you did." She quickly hung up and slipped her phone back into her pocket with a victorious smile on her face.

"This is going to be so much fun," she said.

"A Portal just opened outside the Institute," a Shadowhunter monitoring what were probably security cameras called urgently.

Alec had just enough time to de-glamourize his bow and knock an arrow on the string, aiming it at the front door before a blur of fiery red flashed across his vision and flung the front door _wide open_.

"Clary!" he cried. "What are you-!" His words screeched to a stop, slamming into the wall of stalled thoughts and the slippery thing that was language with the exception of one, single word. "M-Magnus?!"

"Clary Fray where is my baby!" the High Warlock of Brooklyn demanded with all the impulsive energy of a child dmanding their favorite stuffed animal.

Clary just smiled sweetly, planted her hands on Magnus' shoulders, and turned him around so he faced Simon Lewis who was still cradling the now loudly meowing Chairman Meow. Magnus' bright brown eyes grew round and sparkled as they zeroed in on the fluffy cat who very clearly wanted its daddy.

"Chairman! Oh my precious baby. I missed you so much," Magnus cooed, brushing right past everyone and plucking the little cat from Simon's arms and pressing his glitter covered face into the tabby's fur. "I'm so sorry I didn't grab you earlier. I love you so much. I'm taking you home now, I promise. I'll even give you lots of treats and all the cuddles you want."

"Is he always like this?" Jace asked.

Clary glanced at the blonde Shadowhunter and bit back a smirk at the completely dumbstruck expression on the golden boy's face. "What?" she teased. "You thought he was just some all-powerful stick-in-the-mud?"

He didn't answer, but the way he opened and closed his mouth and shifted his feet awkwardly was answer enough. Clary snickered. "This is how he normally is," she said. "Eccentric, goofy, sarcastic, and sassy as fuck." She shot Jace a sly look from the corner of her eye. "Best uncle ever," she declared proudly.

"But he's not your uncle," Jace said seriously.

Clary frowned and narrowed her eyes warningly. "You mean like you're not Alec and Izzy's brother?" she challenged. He opened his mouth to argue but she cut him off. "Don't deny it. It's blatantly obvious you're adopted. If you can be adopted and accepted into their family, why can't I adopt Magnus and accept him as my uncle? He practically raised me, you know."

Jace fell silent and dropped his gaze, nodding reluctantly. "I get that," he said slowly. "But that's not what I meant. I meant, you're a Shadowhunter and he's a warlock."

"So?" Clary said, planting her hands on her hips and facing Jace directly.

"You're different races. He's half demon, you're half angel. He's also immortal," Jace continued. "He'll never grow old. He'll out-live you. Doesn't that..." He shrugged uncomfortably. "Bother you?"

Clary looked back at her uncle thoughtfully and smiled. "Nope," she said confidently. "It just means I'll have to work harder to always be prettier than he is. A challenge I readily accept. Isn't that right, uncle?" Clary called, startling Magnus, who looked up in confusion.

"Is what right?" he asked, letting the Chairman claw his way up to his shoulder where he curled up and purred in contentment.

"That I'm prettier than you," Clary said, stepping forward to pet the cat on her uncle's shoulder.

Magnus scoffed and gave his niece a look. "You are very beautiful, biscuit," he said in a tolerant tone. "But you will never out pretty me."

"I thought beauty was in the eye of the beholder," Clary countered with a teasing smirk.

"It is." Magnus winked. "I'm the beholder." He flicked his fingers along Clary's chin playfully before reaching out and unerringly snatching Simon's ear. "As for you," he said, his voice taking on the tone of a very disappointed parent. "What did I tell you about following us?"

Simon hopped pathetically under his uncle's abuse and whimpered. "Not to?" he said in a tiny voice.

"And what did you do?" Magnus pressed.

Simon sighed, his entire form minus his still captive ear, slumped in defeat. "Follow you."

Magnus released the Mundane's ear and crossed his arms. "I suppose getting captured by vampires was punishment enough," the warlock said mildly.

"What did you expect me to do?" Simon said, huffing in frustration. "My best friend just had her mom kidnapped, another friend is dead, a bunch of crazy people are trying to kill both of you... Wha-" He flailed his arms out in exasperation. "All this is going on and you think I'm just going to sit back and _watch_? No one hurts my family and gets away with it," he said slowly, holding up a finger in Magnus' face.

Isabelle felt her eyebrows lift, surprised and impressed by the display. A glance at both Alec and Jace on either side of her showed they were also impressed, if a bit reluctant on their part. They would all agree family came first for them.

"Besides," Simon added, puffing himself up, "you owe me."

Magnus placed a hand over his chest where his dark skin peeked out from between his red silk shirt in mock surprise. "I owe _you_?" he repeated in disbelief.

"Yes," Simon mumbled. "I got turned into a mouse. I think I'm gonna have nightmares about big feet and perfumed pockets for days." He jolted ramrod straight in shock. "Holy shit, Alexis!"

Magnus placed a hand over Simon's forehead. "You're having mood swings again," he said mildly. "I'll stop by the pharm-"

"No, you don't understand!" Simon snapped, batting Magnus' hand away. "Alexis was the girl who went with me to Hardtail."

"You brought someone _else_ with you?" Clary gasped.

"A Mundane?" Isabelle asked.

"Uh, yeah, Mundane, whatever," Simon said, not particularly liking that terminology. "Look, she was already planning on going there anyway," he explained. "She was going to catch a cab and meet up with friends. I offered to drive her in my van. We got there, grabbed a drink and then I turned into a mouse-"

"In _front_ of a _Mundane_?" Jace demanded, meeting Alec's eyes in concern.

"It's not like I did it on purpose, you know," Simon groaned. "I ordered water, okay?"

"Did you notice anything different about the drink?" Magnus asked, pulling Simon's attention back to him. "Anything at all. Was the color off? Did it taste funny?"

"It kind of glowed blue," Simon said, "but there were black lights everywhere so lots of stuff was glowing blue." He blinked. "It tasted a little sweeter than most water I've had to, now that I think about it. Almost like raspberries or something like that."

"Fairy wine," Magnus and Isabelle said at the same time. Magnus turned his gaze to the Shadowhunter girl, impressed.

"Mild, and probably not the alcoholic kind," Isabelle continued, staring Magnus directly in the eye. "It would have sparkled he'd still be tripping if it was alcoholic." She grinned and Magnus felt his lips twitch up. He liked this woman.

"But what about the girl?" Clary said. "Did you see what happened to her?"

"Uh, no, not really," Simon said, scratching the back of his head. "I was kind of too busy trying not to get stepped on. Besides, I'm sure she's fine."

"Why do you say that?" Alec asked, speaking up for the first time.

"Well, her dad works with the cops," Simon said with a shrug. "I get the feeling she was trying to sneak out."

"The cops?" Clary gasped.

"And you _helped_ her?" Alec demanded.

"She's was already going without me," Simon protested. "At least I helped her get there safely."

"And Alec please," Isabelle said, giving her brother doting look. "It's not like we've never snuck out before."

"No?" Magnus asked, eyeing Alec with interest. "Perhaps you should start. I know of a few places that could be fun. If you're interested of course," he added with a playful wink.

Isabelle would forever remember the faint tint of red on her brother's pale cheeks. Oh, Alec had it bad.

"Back up to the part about her dad working for the cops," Clary said. "What do you mean he works for the cops?"

Simon wilted. "I think it's the same guy who came with the police lady who interviewed me the other day," he said.

"You said you didn't think he was a policeman," Magnus said, scratching the Chairman's chin thoughtfully.

"He's some sort of consultant," Simon said. "Helps out with their investigations. That sort of thing."

"This is getting ridiculous," Alec muttered. "This is why we don't involve Mundanes in Shadow World business."

"Yeah well, maybe your Shadow World business shouldn't involve hurting Mundanes and their friends," Simon said, barely holding back his fury. "I already said I'm not going to just stand back and watch my friends get hurt. The fuck kind of person do you think I am?"

"A stupid one," Alec quipped.

"If making sure the people I care about are safe and sound is stupid, then hell yeah, I'm proud to be called 'stupid'," Simon growled.

"No one's calling you stupid," Clary said, stepping between the two boys. " _No one_ ," she said again, aiming a glare at Alec. "Only hypocrites would say that."

Simon snickered. "Besides," he added, "you forgetting a couple things."

"Yeah?" Jace said. "Like what?"

"Like the fact I was totally able to track you guys using Mundane methods," he said with a smug grin. "Oh and you're still fighting with swords and bow and arrows like old school LARP. I mean seriously, do you guys even use modern weaponry around here? Like, at all?"

"They serve their purpose," Alec said.

"Right," Simon said, nodding. "Keep telling yourself that."

"Ladies," Clary said fiercely, despite the fact she was clearly fighting back a smile. "You're both beautiful. Now shut up."

Alec flushed in offense and Simon bit his lip.

"Does this mean I'm prettier than you?" Simon finally blurted to Clary.

Magnus made a high pitched sound that sounded suspiciously like laughter startling Alec and the other Shadowhunters but was completely ignored by Simon and Clary. Alec's eyes were wide and focused solely on the warlock who was covering his mouth and clearing his throat. Alec's attention was broken by Clary smacking her friend upside the head.

"Not on your life," she teased. Instantly, she and Simon started laughing.

"Mundanes are so weird," Jace muttered.

"Well," Magnus said suddenly, "as much as I'm enjoying this," he glanced up at Alec, "visit, I'm afraid I have to get back to my Lair. And since these two troublemakers are currently under my care," he said, placing a hand on both Clary's and Simon's shoulders, "I'll be taking them with me. So, before I leave," he stood tall, "who found the Chairman?"

Jace waved his hands in denial and Isabelle pointed at Alec with a shit-eating grin, completely loving the way her big brother's face was the shade of her lipstick. "Alec did," she said proudly.

Magnus' eye softened as he strode forward to stand in front of the blushing Shadowhunter. "Thank you for finding my cat," he said honestly. "Perhaps," he added with a subtle lowering of his glitter lined eyelashes, "you could let me pay you back? Nothing serious," he said quickly. "Just payback for services rendered."

Alec couched awkwardly. "Um, s-s'no big deal," he said, finding it very hard to look away from those dark, hooded eyes.

"Oh, I insist," Magnus all but purred. He noticed the Chairman lean forward and meow cutely until Alec hesitantly scratched the tabby's ears. "Besides, the Chairman seems to having taking a liking to you." He smiled. "Drinks?"

"Uh, what?" Alec asked intelligently.

"Say tomorrow night, eight o'clock, my place, no dress code," Magnus said. He winked then spun on his heel and pulled his two wards along with him. It may have been Alec's imagination, but he was almost sure he saw the High Warlock of Brooklyn lick his lips when he turned back to wave before stepping through the Portal. Real or not, he'd certainly dream about it.


End file.
